Big Black Dog
by emileerocksyoursocks
Summary: Stiles is having one of those lonely nights again. Slash. full!wolf!Derek, unaware Stiles.
1. Trouble Sleeping

It was night, the sun had just fell victim to the horizon, laying to rest for everyone else to as well. Stiles couldn't sleep. He felt lonely, like he did on many nights when he'd lay in bed, wishing someone was there with him, someone to keep him warm and stay with him. Nights like these sucked in his honest opinion. He would call Scott on occasion, asking him to just stay up a little longer and talk to him, especially just after his mother had passed.

When he didn't, he'd either be crying himself to sleep, or staying awake and setting a pillow on the ground next to his bedroom window to see the stars, thinking she was up there and twinkling down at him. He'd even go into their room and lay with his father, and he didn't mind when he had his back to him. His dad didn't like to cry in front of him, and he understood that. He didn't like calling Scott, though, it made him feel bad when he'd see that his best friend hadn't gotten enough sleep, seeing the dark circles under his eyes and hearing him yawning most of the day. He wasn't going to call tonight. His phone was sitting on the table next to his bed, and he wasn't going to touch it. With all this wolf stuff, a lonely and needy best friend was the last thing Scott needed.

He sighed and turned to lay on his stomach, shoving his head in the pillows and groaning out of annoyance. He wanted to sleep so badly, just to get some rest and feel better. He knew his Adderall was in the drawer of his desk, along with the other bottles he'd hidden around the house, but Derek had told him to lighten up on his drug habit, and he didn't want to make the werewolf angry... Well, more angry than usual. It was like Derek acted hateful toward him, but scolded him to make him better, and to keep him safe. He didn't know what to think of him... Even though he thought about him a lot. More than he should, really.

He was so curious about Derek. He wanted to know about werewolves, sure, but he also wanted to know what his life had been like; and where he learned everything and how old he was when he first shifted without control. How did it feel, and what did he do? Those were the questions Stiles wanted to ask, along with the simple 'What's your favorite food? How do you live in that house? Do you get cold at night? ...Do you want to sleep over at my house?' Okay, maybe that wasn't simple. He liked Derek more than he should have. He was supposed to be scared of him, and he was, he really was; but he kind of liked when Derek would force him up against walls and doors, leave bruises that he wouldn't want to cover up. He wanted to be something to Derek; someone to him. But how would he do that, and why would Derek want him, anyway? He huffed and rolled back to stare at the ceiling, jumping a bit when he heard a knock at his bedroom door.

"Yeah, Dad?" He watched as his door opened, his father's head poking in. He was glad it was his dad's night off, or he'd be worrying about him, and then he really wouldn't be sleeping.

"That stray's here again, and he ran right up here." Sheriff Stilinski said, looking down to where a familiar dog was pushing his way in the room. He gave a shrug and a smile to his son when he looked back up, then left the room, going back downstairs.

The big, black dog had been coming around for the past two weeks, visiting every so often, Stiles noticing he came around when he was feeling overly lonely, and it always made him feel better. Even if the dog couldn't talk back, Stiles would talk to him, get what he thought were knowing looks, and he'd feel better. The dog would always be gone by morning, but he didn't mind.

"Hey, Ben." Stiles smiled, patting the bed for the dog to come up next to him. He chuckled softly when the Ben took the invitation, laying down next to him and nuzzling into his side, head settling on the teen's stomach. The dog looked up at him expectantly.

"Yeah, okay," He set one arm behind his head to prop his head up, the other going down and petting Ben's head, "I'm glad you came around tonight. I have stuff to talk about. It's mostly about that Derek Hale guy I told you about last time."

The dog perked up, blue eyes looking at Stiles intently, ready to hear whatever he had to say. Stiles smiled, and started off, "Well, I've been thinking about him a lot lately, and I don't know what to do. He hates me, but it's like he wants me to be better. He told me not to pop Adderall all the time... Scott hasn't even said that to me before. And speaking of Scott, I don't want to call and bother him. I don't want to with my dad, either. He's finally getting into a routine without her."

The dog whined, nuzzling his head into Stiles, paw reaching up and gently scratching at his chest, and the teen could tell he was sensing how upset he was getting. He pet Ben's head again and took a deep breath, "Okay, let's stay focused on Derek; a subject filed under 'what the hell do I do'."

He felt the canine relax, and he continued to talk about Derek; telling him everything he'd thought about that night, all the questions he wanted to ask, his curiosity, and his feelings for the older teen coming out as well. He talked for a while, stroking the dark fur of Ben's, which was a name he'd given to the stray mut upon not knowing his real one. He wished he knew, though. It was like a name on the tip of his tongue and he just couldn't remember. He also talked about Scott, and how he wondered what shifting felt like. Was it painful, or was it like another person trying to take the television remote when your favorite shows are on? Stiles wanted to know, maybe adapt so he could say and do the right things so maybe he wouldn't almost be killed again. He sighed when his train of thought gave out, looking down at the patient dog, feeling better than before, a soft smile gracing his lips as Ben looked up at him.

"I can always talk to you. It's like you're not just a big dog." He said, a small growl escaping Ben before he shook his head slightly and cuddled into Stiles, just like he did when the teen would be getting tired.

"Time for bed? Really? How do you know I don't have more to talk about?" The teen asked, feeling the dog inch closer and settle down, paw being put over his eyes to make him close them. Stiles accepted it; he couldn't talk about Derek forever. He shifted a bit to get comfortable, and within a few minutes, he was drifting to sleep.

The dog waited until he knew Stiles was asleep, then carefully moved out from under the teen's arm, jumping down from the bed and making his way over to the door, nosing it open and going down the stairs, past a sleeping sheriff on the couch and up to the front door. He leaned up on his hind legs and got the door open, running out after and striding into the woods, stopping when he got into the trees, closing his eyes and feeling himself get taller, fur fading away.

Derek ran a hand through his hair and sighed at how cold the night air was now, picking up his jeans and slipping them on, redoing the button and zipper, along with his belt. He looked back up to the Stilinski household and thought about everything Stiles said, everything about him standing out. He didn't know the younger teen was _that_ curious, and he wasn't aware that he was someone to "crush" on. He slipped on his shirt and grabbed his jacket, throwing it over his shoulder. He wanted to tell Stiles everything he wanted to know, and more, even. But "Ben" was someone who the teen trusted, and he didn't want to stop that just yet, for more than one reason.


	2. Catchers and Answers

"Dude, you look wrecked." Scott said as he walked down the hallway, watching as Stiles rolled his tired-looking eyes and shrugged.

"I feel fine." He smiled, even though he did feel physically sluggish. He hadn't had any medicine today, and he'd woken up fifteen minutes before he had to go to school. But emotionally, he felt amazing, for today, at least. He'd gotten it all out to someone who listened and he was ever grateful to that dog for it.

"Well, I'm glad you at least feel good." Scott told him, stopping and kneeling down to tie his shoe. Stiles nodded, readjusting his backpack and looking out the windows, noticing an animal control truck and two men trying to coax a dog into a cage, pulling him by the hooks they had around his neck. It was a big, black dog. It was Ben.

Stiles' eyes widened and he ran through the wall, leaving Scott behind and pushing people out of his way to get outside, yelling as soon as he did, "Hey! What are you doing? Get away from him! You're hurting him!"

The men looked up at him, loosening their tugging, Ben still growling and thrashing. Stiles was angry; they were choking him. He knelt down, ignoring the protests from the men, tugging off the wires from around the dog's neck, making sure he was okay. Ben looked at him and stopped growling instantly.

"You can't do that! He's vicious and dangerous." One of the animal control men said, stepping back from the teen and the dog like he was going to get attacked.

"Yeah, I'm so scared. Help, he's gonna rip my throat out." Stiles said sarcastically as he wrapped his arms around Ben, rubbing his fur to calm him down, feeling him move closer.

"Who are you?" The other man said, angry and accusing. He tried to grab Ben with his hook again, and Stiles glared at him.

"Stiles Stilinski," The teen told them, pushing away the hook, "The sheriff's son. Back away from the dog with that frickin' thing."

The two animal control officers backed up, Stiles nodding before standing up with Ben in his arms. The dog squirmed a bit before sighing and staying still, "He's my dog, okay? And you're not gonna put him in a cage. You're not even gonna be around him, okay?"

They nodded, rolling their eyes. One grabbed the cage and put it into the back of the truck, the other making a comment about Ben and how Stiles should put a collar on him... which made him think why he didn't already. He walked with the dog in his arms over to his Jeep, opening the driver's side door and setting him down on the seat.

"What are you doing here?" He said like he was expecting a response, actually a bit angered when he didn't get one, "You're lucky I came along when I did, or your ass would be in the pound... I don't want that to happen to you."

He sighed, rubbing his hair before running the hand down his face, pacing a bit back and forth, feeling the jittery energy from not taking his pills. He looked back at the dog, who was already staring at him, "They're right, you know. I should put some kind of identity thing on you, so you don't get into trouble."

Ben looked like he was contemplating the idea.

"Well, I don't know what else to do... I don't even know where your real family is. I've never even seen you during the day before." Stiles told him after he'd watched the dog's ears fold down, seeing that mentioning of family made him unhappy. He sighed, looking to the ground, trying to think of some way he could make sure Ben would stay out of harm's way. It finally came to him when he was fiddling with the green bracelet on his wrist. He quickly slid it off and grabbed one of Ben's front paws, putting the bracelet on him and fixing the latch to fit him.

"There." Stiles nods, letting the dog's paw go, "It's not perfect, but... Well, yeah."

The teen could swear he saw Ben roll his eyes. He backed up, making sure he was settled right before he closed the door. Ben whined, but Stiles leaned against the door, head in the open window.

"You'll be fine, don't worry. I'm almost done my classes for the day, and I want to go to them... Another thing Derek has said I should do more often. But as soon as I'm done, I'll come back and take you home. We'll play catch or something. Maybe Scott will come over, you'll get to spend time with another dog." He chuckled at his own joke, smile fading when he looked back at Ben, "Alright..."

Stiles rubbed the dog's head, then made his way back in the school in time to be three minutes late for class, and get scolded by Coach about it. Scott tried to ask him where he went, but he just shook his head and shrugged it off. He went to all his classes, actually trying to pay attention, not having much luck in that, and was getting more jittery as the day went on. He was basically jumping down the hall when class was over. He'd managed to ask Scott about coming over after he was done studying at Allison's house, and after his best friend agreed, he ran off to his car. When he approached his Jeep, he opened the driver's door, Ben nowhere to be found. He quickly checked the rest of the vehicle, then sighed. He reached over and opened the glove compartment, grabbing an orange pill bottle, taking a few and downing them with the water bottle he'd kept from lunch.

He shoved the door closed, and looked around, seeing if the dog had gotten out and was wandering the parking lot. He didn't see him anywhere. He was starting to panic; what if the animal control men came back? He paced, looking at the ground, his eyes catching prints in the dirt. Dog prints, looking distorted and dug deep from running. He instantly followed them into the woods without a second thought. He tried to follow as best he could, but leaves and pine needles were scattered along the ground, making it hard to see. He looked up when he was sure there were no more, and searched around.

"Ben? Ben, you out there? Come on!" Stiles hoped the dog would come running out to him, but was disappointed when nothing happened, "Fuck!"

"What are you doing out here?" A voice asked him, and he jumped, falling back into the nearest tree and dropping his backpack. He looked up at the person, and quickly got more irritated.

"I'm looking for my dog, Derek." He said, remembering all the emotions he had told Ben about, and how hurt he was that Derek would not like him back, no matter what.

"I didn't know you had a dog." The wolf answered instantly, hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, shrugging those strong shoulders. Stiles wanted to be hugged by those arms, nuzzle his face into those shoulders, that neck. But it wouldn't happen.

"Well, I do... But I don't... He's a stray, but he's important. I don't wanna lose- Wait, what are you doing here?" The younger teen looked up at him, accusing and judgmental. Derek thought this would have gone different after hearing what he said last night. He shrugged as an answer, just because he could get away with it.

"Oh, and by the way, I went to my doctor and he said he'd gotten an anonymous tip that I had been abusing my medicine to study, and that I thought werewolves existed. And he made me take a break with the medicine, saying it was a casual 'taking off from time to time for tests'." Stiles ranted, pushing himself away from the tree, aggressive mood swing kicking in, something his doctor said might happen as a side effect, along with depression, mania, mood swings, and not getting enough sleep.

Derek shrugged again, opting to say nothing. He was the one who called the doctor as his office, and expressed that he thought the teen was abusing his medicine, especially when he'd take almost a whole bottle to stay up three and a half nights in a row to search about werewolves, and other things, some of which were inappropriate and got his blood pumping, to a specific area of the body he might add. And maybe that was his fault for checking up on him at night when he wasn't pretending to be a stray mutt... just to watch him for no other reason that he liked seeing his face.

"Why would you do that? I need my meds. God, I was so off schedule last night that I was at the point where I was so tried, but the medicine wasn't completely out of my system so it kept me up. I thought so many times last night to just take more and stay awake." Stiles broke through his thoughts, demanding an answer, jittery and looking upset.

"But you took some now." The older teen pointed out, hearing soft crackling from the kid's jeans of pills against the bottle as he tapped his foot.

"Yeah, because either that or I wouldn't be able to drive!"

"I would have driven you home."

"And I would have- What?"

The wolf nodded, "And I did see a black dog wandering around with a... a green wrist band thing. It was yours, I remembered. I took him to your house and left him with your dad."

"Y-You did?" Stiles asked him, his expression softening and anger instantly starting to fade away. He watched him nod once, and he took a moment, admiring the other's jawline and lips. Those fucking lips. Damn them for making him want them so badly. He had to take a deep breath, averting his eyes to the ground. He heard a small rustle of leaves, then shoes in front of his. He looked up and saw Derek staring down at him.

"You look pale." The wolf said simply, setting a hand on Stiles' shoulder and squeezing slightly. He noticed the way his eyes dilated and his mood shifted.

"Just tired." He replied, lying right to the wolf's face. He wanted to lie, and he knew Derek could tell he was. Maybe he'd ask about it and he could totally pour out his heart, and get that ride home, have Derek help him up to his room before collapsing on his bed and bringing him down with him.

"Are you sure? Do you need me to-"

"Stiles! There you are. Allison took a rain check on me and... Derek, what are you doing?" Scott walked toward them, readjusting his backpack on his shoulder.

Derek swiftly moved away from the quirky teen, shoving his hand back into his pocket, "Nothing."

Stiles was screaming in his mind at Scott for being a cockblock, and a ruiner of moods, but he would keep it in, because Scott didn't even know he liked guys yet.

"Yeah, nothing... So Allison canceled on you, that's sucky, man. I'm sorry." Stiles told him, actually feeling sorry... not only for Scott.

"She didn't cancel, she just postponed. But at least now I have time to go over to your house early." The younger werewolf smiled, motioning for Stiles to follow him. He felt like something was off, but didn't act on it.

"Let's go," He said, giving a grin before turning back to Derek, "Thanks for... the thing, 'kay?"

The oldest teen just nodded, watching Scott and Stiles make their way back to the Jeep; hearing as they climbed in and drove off, Scott saying something about stopping at his house first, and listening to Stiles' heartbeat race until it was out of range. He sighed and looked at the ground in front of him, wondering why the scent of the kid was still around, until he saw his discarded backpack a few feet away. He picked it up haphazardly, contemplating what to do with it before deciding to throw it over his shoulder and drop it at his house before he got to the Stilinski house before the two teens in the Jeep.

Stiles jumped out of his vehicle, Scott chuckling before following as his friend burst through the door of his house, looking around before tripping up the stairs. He could tell the other was excited, only he didn't know about what.

"Stiles, what's up with you?" He asked, smiling as the other teen looked under his bed. He leaned down to ask again, but Stiles jumped up.

"I got a-" The quirky teen started, but was cut off by barking, a large dog running in the room and almost knocking Stiles over when he jumped up on him. The kid laughed and gently pushed the dog to the bed, but Scott wasn't amused one bit, something making his stomach flip.

"His name is Ben... Well, that's what I named him. He's cute, right?" He smiled, flopping the dog's ears before going to look through his papers for the homework notes his friend needed.

The young wolf looked down at the dog, tilting his head to the side. _This dog isn't a dog._ "Ben" looked up at him, and shook his head slowly, growling lowly when Scott made a move toward Stiles. He couldn't help but growl back, muttering so only the other wolf could hear him about how horrible it was to snoop around and make Stiles trust him like this. Derek's growl got louder, and so did Scott's.

"What the hell? No, no, no." Stiles got in between the two, setting his hands on Scott's shoulders, hoping it didn't put him in the line of fire, "What are you doing to my dog? Stop it, whatever it is."

"Stiles, your dog i-"

"Derek!" Stiles slapped a hand to his forehead, taking Scott aback. He knew? Derek almost fell off the bed. The human teen shook his head, and looked at the ground.

"Wha... Well, how did y-"

"He scared me and I dropped my backpack. It had those notes in it. Fuck, dude." Stiles let his hand slide off his best friend, remembering the realization of forgetting his school bag, "I'm sorry, bro. I knew you needed those."

"What?" Scott asked, confused.

"The notes. Derek scared me and made me drop my bag, which had the notes in it. Sorry I didn't realize sooner." Stiles said again sighing and before laying down on his bed. The dog cuddled into him, nuzzling himself under Stiles' inviting arm, giving a glare to Scott, and making him step back, sensing something very territorial about Derek now. God, Stiles was going to hate this when he found out, and Scott knew it.

"Yeah... Uh, forget about them," The young werewolf wanted to make Derek angry, and he knew how to do it. He sat in Stiles' chair, "So, how are you and Lydia?"

"Me and Lydia? Uh, we're cool. She talked to me in History yesterday." Stiles nodded, remembering all the details of her. He may have liked guys, but he still liked girls, too. "She was wearing that cherry lip gloss, I could smell it. She asked me if I wanted to try it when she saw me staring."

"Really? What she'd do next?" Scott sat back, looking smug as he saw Derek tense up.

"She leaned forward... And took her lip gloss out and put some on me. Then she laughed. And Jackson called me a fag." Stiles said, eyes casting downward, the dog cuddling into him, looking back over at Scott.

"Oh... Stiles, I'm sorry. I didn't know that." The tan skinned teen sat up, feeling horrible that he wasn't there to stop Jackson. Stiles didn't deserve that, he really didn't. He just likes Lydia.

"It's fine. Danny came to my rescue." He shrugged, remembering when Danny put his arm around him and asked why calling him a fag would be something funny. Jackson looked heartbroken at Danny for a moment, before apologizing.

"But, dude..."

"No, it's fine. Whatever."

Scott could tell he was lying. Jackson was a douche was he was going to tell him that when he got to school tomorrow. No one did that to his best friend and got away with it. Stiles takes so much from him, and other people, too. Even Coach. It's ridiculous.

"Hey, Scott..." Stiles' voice was soft, making him look up at the other teen, "Your eyes are glowing. It's really okay, Danny helped me. Calm down, you can't be there to save me from everything."

He nodded and took deep breaths, putting his head in his hands to try to calm himself. He heard the springs of the bed creak, and then arms wrapped around him. He opened his eyes and saw the fabric of Stiles' shirt, and was hugging back instantly. The other teen kept a tight hold on him, hoping he'd calm down and see that it wasn't such a big deal. Jackson had gotten it half right, not that he was going to tell Scott that just yet. He rubbed the young werewolf's back when he apologized again, then knelt down in front of him, checking his eyes to make sure he wasn't stressing, and that he wasn't going to have to run for his life. Again. He hugged his best friend again, feeling like he needed it, knowing he did when Scott tightly hugged him back.

The young werewolf held Stiles around the shoulders, gripping at his shirt, and set his chin on his friend's shoulder. He stared at Derek, making sure he noticed the way Stiles' heart was picking up because he was clutching his shirt in his fists, giving him a primal, protective, _He's mine, not yours_ look. A low growl emitted from Derek, claws sinking into the comforter he was laying on, eyes starting to glow. A smirk came onto Scott's lips, then he wet them, leaning in and nosing at the sensitive skin under Stiles' ear; he felt the way his best friend's hands tightened on his shirt, and heard his heart start to race. He suddenly wondered why, but was happy he was getting a reaction from the older werewolf.

He saw Derek start to shift, and he climbed backwards off the bed, hiding him from sight, human hands the last thing seen before Scott felt Stiles pulling out of the hug, and he had to look up at him. The lacrosse player looked at his co-captain with a confused, and slightly turned on expression, hiding that he was aroused the best he could. He couldn't help it honestly, a guy had come onto him; the first guy besides a non-sexually driven Danny, who had cupped him through his jeans and kissed his neck in a supply closet when they were late for class after practice, when they didn't want to get in trouble with the teacher that was sent to find them. It would have been Stiles' fourth time late, and Danny's third. Scott could smell it on him, though, and he just chalked it up to the other pretending he was Lydia for a moment, plus teenage hormones. He was breathing heavy in his friend's ear, for God's sake.

"What was...?" Stiles eyebrows knit together. _Did Scott know he was...? Was Scott...? No, he couldn't be. No... He can't. Right?_ It kind of freaked him out, to be honest.

"I just... Thanks, I needed the hug." Scott gave him a reassuring smile, patting his shoulder. He seemed to believe him, which made him feel better, but that didn't shake the feeling of knowing Stiles was aroused by him, and that Derek was jealous of him. He wanted answers, and he was damned if he wasn't going to get them.


	3. Lying and Insecurities

**_Sort of a short chapter, and a warning, there's a bit of self harm at the end._**

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><p>Derek sat silently on the porch of his house, flipping through one of the books that was in Stiles' backpack. It seemed like the kid had taken every werewolf mythology from the library. He set another sticky footnote by a paragraph, writing out "First half; half true" then wrote what was false. He'd done this with two books since last night, using phrases like "all of this. no." and "this is totally false" and his personal favorite "utter bullshit". Those books were old and thick, and he'd marked the things Stiles specified he wanted to know. He turned the next page, then looked up at hearing rustling leaves, and a break of a twig. He heard a heartbeat, and saw Scott emerge from the woods. <em>Great.<em>

"You're getting better, but granted I was distracted." He said, sounding bored, turning back to the book on his leg.

"What are you doing with Stiles? I know he doesn't know you're Ben." The young wolf got right to the point, walking up to the house, fully intent on figuring out the other wolf's angle.

"What's it to you?" Derek retorted, writing down another note for the teen in question.

"He's my best friend. I have a right to know what you're doing to him. So, tell me. We can get to the whole 'you can shift into an animal' thing later." Scott said, stopping right before the steps, noticing his best friend's backpack propped up next to Derek, "And what are you doing with his bag? Why'd you take it?"

"Well, if you must know, I'm not doing anything to him. And his backpack was on the ground, I didn't take it." The older wolf told him, seeing how frustrated he made Scott at telling him almost nothing.

"Derek, I'm serious. Why are you doing this to him? He hardly talks to me unless it's about werewolves. And when he didn't, it was in front of you. Why do I have to find things out this way?" The lacrosse player ranted, missing when his best friend would talk his ear off.

"He trusts me." He shrugged, flipping the page of the book, setting down another note against the old paper and writing how much the book had wrong.

"No, he trusts Ben; the mutt that wandered in. Out of every house, it was Stiles'. He doesn't see how sketchy this all is just yet. What are you getting from this?"

"Useful information." Derek worded it so his heart wouldn't give him away. He was gathering information, and maybe most of it was for his own personal gain, but he was also helping out Stiles. He'd already convinced himself that this wasn't a bad idea, and he wasn't going back on that.

"What kind of useful information?"

"The kind I need." He said, feeling annoyed, wishing Scott would just take the hint that he wasn't going to talk.

"God, Derek. Just stay away from my best friend, okay? No more Ben coming around and stalking Stiles." He told him sternly, watching the older werewolf turn the page on the book he was reading, looking like he was blocking him out, ignoring him. He scoffed, walking away, getting to the edge of the woods before whispering, "Stiles wouldn't want you anyway."

He felt himself being pulled back in an instant, shoved into the nearest tree, strong hands turning him around and pressing his back painfully against the bark. Scott looked up at an angry,_ and... upset?_ Derek, hands shaking from where they were gripping the front of his shirt.

"What do you mean, he wouldn't want me?" Derek pressed him against the bark harder for emphasis, thinking maybe Stiles had told him something.

"I mean... I hear things." Scott informed vaguely, remembering when he last overheard one of his mother's phone calls, making his heart tell the truth. He saw the older wolf's eyes flash; not with anger, or to give the fact that he was going to shift, but with sadness and an insecure feeling hit him, shocking him when he realized it was from Derek.

"W-What did you hear?"

"Something with the words 'not attracted' and 'gay guy'." He recalled the time him and Stiles had had yet another conversation between class about if Danny found him attractive.

"No. He said he liked me. He has a crush on _me_. He's attracted to _me_. He has to like me." Derek thought out loud, not being able to hold it in, his eyes downcasting as he tried to put it together logically. Had he missed something?

"Wha...S-Stiles is gay? Why... Why didn't he tell me?" The lacrosse player thought he'd get out that the other wolf was gay, not his best friend. The hands loosened on his shirt.

"Because he was scared to tell you, you dick. He knew you'd have questions, and he wouldn't know how to answer." The taller teen mumbled with a hard expression on his face, stopping himself before he went on, looking up at the other teen, "You can't tell him I told you. Seriously, I'll kill you."

"And don't tell him, but I was lying to you." Scott spat back, the realization of his best friend going to Derek Hale instead washing over him, making him feel hurt in the deepest ways, that it physically hurt in his chest.

Now Derek was angry, he'd messed up because of his feelings again, "You know what? I'll kill you, McCall! I'll fucking do it!"

"No, you won't," The young wolf pushed him away, eyes flashing gold, "Because that would make Stiles upset."

The older teen clenched his fists and just watched the teen walk away, knowing he was right. He couldn't hurt Scott because of Stiles. As soon as the other wolf got far enough away, he ran back into his house, putting more holes in the walls, screaming at the top of his lungs like he was in pain. And he honestly was. He broke the mantel piece, feeling one of his knuckles break, anger starting to die into depression. He dropped to his knees and pulled at his hair, cry mixing with a groan, thinking if Scott had been right, his whole world would have collapsed around him all over again.

He looked to the mirror propped against the old chest a few feet away, and saw himself in it. He'd been in this exact spot after the fire had been put out, police gone, and he was the only one left. He leaned forward and landed a blow to the mirror, it shattering, making his knuckles bleed from the force, letting his hands fall onto the shards and press down. He'd have to stay human for Stiles, not be a monster. Why would anyone want a monster like him, anyway?


	4. Confessions and Conversations

**_This and the last chapter didn't have Stiles/Derek in person (or wolf), but don't worry, they will be together soon enough._**

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><p>When Scott arrived at Stiles' house, it was late, but he'd needed time to get together what he was going to say. He walked up to the Stilinski household, knocking on the front door before just walking in, announcing himself so he wouldn't get shot, even though he knew he'd be fine now. He waved at Sheriff Stilinski and headed up the stairs, knocking a few times on a bedroom door, letting Stiles have the option of opening the door. His palms were sweaty, and he felt so nervous. How are you supposed to tell your best friend that you know he's gay? He gasped a bit when Stiles appeared in the now open doorway, smiling at him, but also feeling a bit insecure when Scott took a quick step forward.<p>

"Hey, man. It's kinda late for you to be coming in from the front door, isn't it?" Stiles joked, letting him in and the closing the door.

"I thought it'd be easier this way." Scott told him seriously, making the sheriff's son turn and look up at him, instantly concerned.

"What is it?" The quirky teen asked, mind filling with all the things Scott would be telling him, "Is someone dead? Is it Derek?"

"You like Derek, don't you?" The Co-Captain tried, wishfully thinking that maybe Stiles would just tell him, pour it all out so nothing would be between them anymore.

"I... No, you know I hate him. Why would you ask me that?" The human teen got defensive. Could he tell that he was lying to him? Yes. Did he hate that he was lying to his best friend? Yes, more than anything.

Scott sighed at the fluttering heartbeat, and was ready to beg Stiles to tell him the truth, to tell him anything and everything. His body acted before his mind, and he had engulfed his best friend in a tight hug, the other teen not knowing what to do.

"Scott, what's up with you, dude?" He asked, trying to pull out of the embrace, the other not letting him.

"Tell me the truth, Stiles. Just tell me the truth. Please," The wolf begged in a soft voice, "I'll still love you, you're my best friend. No matter what."

Anxiety shot through him, and he was scared to tell him, just to get the words out and be labeled, though of as _that_ every time he offered hugs or rides in his Jeep, or when he asked to talk on the phone when they were both laying in bed at night. He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, finding it was shaky.

"I'm sorry, Scott. I didn't want to be treated differently." He muttered, dropping his arms as if Scott would want to push him away. He didn't.

"Do you really think I'd treat you differently? I mean," The tan skinned teen pulled away from his friend, keeping his hands on his shoulders to show he wasn't going to push him away, or that he didn't want to remain in contact, "Sure, I'd adapt to what you needed and what I'd say, but I'd still treat you like Stiles. I'd still come over and talk to you, listen to you ramble, bum yet another ride from you, joke around with you, pull pranks. I just wish you'd talk to me again, man."

"I thought you wouldn't want to be my friend anymore." Stiles whispered, staring at his socks, one foot over the other out of habit, taking in Scott's words slowly.

"You're my _best friend_, Stiles. You're going to stay my best friend. Got it? Now... J-Just say it, you'll feel better." Scott requested, needing to know that him and Stiles were really on the same page.

"I'm not gay, Scott. I-I still like girls... Lydia," The quirky teen made sure he wanted he got that across, "But... I like guys, too. I don't know a lot about, so please don't ask me questions. I won't have the answers."

The young wolf nodded, seeing the small trace of a smile come to his friend's lips, chuckling softly to let him know it was okay, "Feels good to say it, doesn't it?"

"Yeah." Stiles laughed softly, looking up at his best friend, reaching up and giving a semi-gentle slap to the face.

"What was that for?"

"For coming onto me yesterday."

* * *

><p>"Hey, Danny... Can I talk to you?" Stiles jogged up to him in the hallway, walking a bit faster to keep up with the taller teen's strides, avoiding other people as well as he could.<p>

"No." Was his answer, readjusting his backpack on his shoulder, obviously not wanting to talk to him right now.

"Please?"

That made Danny stop. Stiles never said please, he'd usually just ask the questions and expect an answer. He looked down at him, and shrugged, "What is it?"

The younger teen lowered his voice, "What kind of stuff did you deal with after you came out to your parents?"

The upper classman gave him a look, "Why do you want to know?"

"Please, just tell me." Stiles urged, desperate to know something about this, and how he should tell his dad before he gets a boyfriend and gives his father a heart attack.

"...Are you gay?" Danny asked him, leaning down to hear his hushed voice better, watching the kid shush him and look around.

"N-No, well... Sort of. Yeah, I don't know." He stuttered, thinking a moment before huffing and wrapping a hand around the other's wrist, pulling him into the boys locker room and frantically checking to make sure they were alone.

"Stiles," The lacrosse goalie watched him check in lockers, "I think we're alone."

"If you say so."

Danny walked over and sat on a bench, letting his backpack slip off his shoulder, beckoning Stiles to come and sit with him. After a moment, he did, looking nervous. He knew that look, he'd worn it himself before. He reached out and set a hand on the kid's knee.

"My parents took a few days before they told me they accepted it, and things were awkward for a few weeks, but then I realized I could be myself around them, and I broke the tension." Danny told him, watching him relax.

"Why'd it take them a few days? How did you break the tension?" Stiles asked, taking a deep breath.

"To get over the initial 'holy fuck, my child is gay' thing. And I broke the tension by asking if my dad was going to take me to work on a car."

That made the younger teen chuckle a bit, and he nodded, "Okay, I get it."

"When are you gonna tell your dad?" Danny asked, soft smile on his lips, thinking about what kind of person Sheriff Stilinski was, and remembering how he acted so good to his son when he'd saw them. Stiles was going to have no problems with this... Well, he hoped.

"Soon. It's been getting too much to hold it in. I told Scott, though. I was worried because he's always busy with the were... W-Wearing all that sleep deprivation on his face, you know? Stress, and stuff." He saved himself there, and Danny seemed to believe him, patting his knee before getting up.

"Well, if you need any help, just call me. And it'll be nice to have another gay- Well, half gay kid in the school." He said, throwing his backpack over his shoulder again.

Stiles stood and didn't ask permission before hugging the older lacrosse player tightly, mumbling "thank you" into his shirt. Danny stood there a moment before returning the hug, rubbing the other's back, letting go when he pulled away. The kid gave him a smile before running off, feeling better that he knew a possibility to how his father might react.


	5. Bloody Realizations

Ben hadn't been around in a few days, and Stiles was starting to get worried. Ben had done this before, but after seeing him in the day time, he'd sort of just claimed him and cared and was concerned more for the mutt now. He was thinking of going to search for him, but he didn't know where to start, or even how to. It's not like he knew the dog's real name, or if he belonged to a family, even though he almost knew he didn't, just by a feeling alone. Speaking of feeling alone; he did again. He could talk to Scott, but he wasn't sure if he was fully adjusted to him liking guys yet, but he seemed to be cool with it, and he was overly thankful for that.

"Scott, are you sure you don't know how to talk to animals, yet?" He asked, shifting gears with the phone held between his cheek and shoulder, slowing down and turning into a hidden road that showed the way down a long, tree encased drive.

"No, not really. I can't find them. Sorry, Stiles. But seriously, he's just a dog." Scott told him bluntly, grunting when his mother hit him on the back of the head, making him drop the sandwich he was about to take a bite of, mouthing that the dog meant a lot to his best friend and to be more sensitive.

"Thank you, Melissa." Stiles chuckled, knowing exactly what happened, the noise always coming out of Scott's mouth whenever he was lovingly smacked by his mother.

The young werewolf rolled his eyes, but couldn't help the small smile, "Just look for him if you must, but please be careful."

"Careful's my middle name." The quirky teen said with an amused tone before hanging up the phone, going down the road, bouncing a bit as his Jeep hit about every little bump in the road. He took a deep breath when he reached the clearing, charred remains of a house making him shiver.

He looked down to park and unbuckle, but something moving swiftly away from the rundown building caught his eyes. He leaned himself over, sticking a hand out the window, yelling to the only person he knew it could be.

"Derek! Hey, hold on." He turned off the engine and tried to get out, flailing a bit when the seat belt held him in the car. After unbuckling and successfully getting himself out of his vehicle, he jogged up to Derek, astonished at what he saw.

The wolf had dark bags under his eyes, usually sharp eyes looking a bit hazy, and skin looking flushed and cold. The only time Stiles had seen him like this before was when dying because of a wolf's bane bullet. Stiles was suddenly struck with fear and a bad feeling in his stomach; was Derek dying again? He instantly started rambling about what could have happened, if the other was okay, and what they could do to save him.

"Stiles, I'm not dying. I just haven't slept, that's all." The older teen shrugged his feelings off, choosing this wasn't the right moment to pour out his heart, knowing the kid would hate him because of the truth.

"But you look horrible!" The lacrosse player blurted out of concern, realizing he'd said something wrong when the wolf started to walk away. He groaned in frustration at himself, turning and grabbing the other's wrist, Derek cringing and stopping himself from whimpering. He'd kept himself from healing for days, reminding himself that needed to keep his behavior under control for Stiles. He was not a monster, he wanted to be a realistic option for the smaller teen.

"Woah, are you okay?" The kid asked him, gently pulling him closer and gasping when he saw his hands. Cuts and dried blood all over his palms and fingers, a few shards of something shiny still in the wounds. Stiles looked up at him, shocked expression on his face, Derek's eyes fixed on the ground.

The younger teen didn't ask even though he desperately wanted to know, holding his wrist up and checking to see if the other hand was like that, too. It was. He took the wolf by the front of his leather jacket, pulling him over to his Jeep and opening up the back, taking out a first-aid kit. He heard Derek scoff, but not do anything to protest. They made no eye contact while the younger teen lead him into his house, to what Stiles thought used to be the living room. Sitting Derek down on the couch, he noticed the broken mirror as he pulled up a crate and sat down, almost knees to knees with the other teen.

"Take off your jacket." He mumbled, opening the kit and taking out what he needed.

The wold didn't as he was told, exhaling deeply at taking the fabric over his hands. It was a very human-like pain, and he thought it would make him better. It was like he was training himself. He carefully fixed the long sleeves of his shirt, and stayed silent, watching Stiles. The kid took his hand in his, palm holding the back of Derek's hand, alcohol swab being set to his skin, making him hiss and tug away. Stiles looked up at him with an apologetic expression, holding out his palm again if Derek wanted the help. The older teen set their hands together again haphazardly. Stiles was more careful with him this time, gently blowing on his hand while he got used to the initial burn of the alcohol, not having to to after only a few moments.

"You broke the mirror," He said quietly, grabbing tweezers out of the kit and gently starting to pick out the shards, "Why?"

"Because I wanted to." Derek mumbled, gritting his teeth as the kid pulled out a shard rather long, and he knew it was the one that had been rubbing painfully against the ball of his thumb that connected to his wrist, making it hard for him to open his hand all the way or grip something too tightly.

"Alright," Stiles nodded, accepting the answer, happy he at least got one, "Why aren't you healing?"

"I didn't want to." The wolf answered simply again, watching the kid take out the last few shards of mirror, then grab some gauze and hold slight pressure to stop the bleeding that had started.

"Doesn't it hurt?" He asked, wondering how the pain was. Did aspirin work for werewolves? There was a bottle in the first-aid kit, after all.

"It's a very human-like pain, yes." Derek nodded, feeling good that he gotten to answer one of Stiles' questions in person.

"I'm sorry." The kid whispered, softly bandaging the wolf's hand, then starting on the other one. It took longer, the older teen pulling away more from the pain, which he couldn't say much about. He bandaged him up again up, then had him hold his hands side by side. He grabbed an instant ice pack and broke it over his knee, shaking it before setting it on the wolf's hands.

"For the swelling." He said when Derek looked at him questioningly, then sat back a bit on the crate, and sighed, "So, did anything attack you or...?"

"No, I wasn't attacked."

"Well, are you okay?"

No. It was a simple answer, but should he really go with it? Maybe he should just lie again. He looked up into those sandy brown eyes, wanting nothing more than to kiss him, tell him everything, and then kiss him again. But he decided to go with something that would make Stiles happy. Stiles liked the truth, "No, not really."

"Will you tell me what's wrong?"

"...No."

"Derek," Stiles reached out for his hands, bumping the wolf's broken knuckle, making him hiss and actually close his eyes at how bad it hurt him, "What's wrong?"

"N-Nothing," The wolf willed his eyes to open again, seeing how concerned the kid looked, "It's my knuckle, but I'll be fine."

"Yeah, right. Let me see." He took the ice pack from him, turning over his hands, pulling the bandage back a little to show his knuckles. A large black and blue bruise covered the knuckle and fanned out with color, dark red in pooled blood. It was not good. How did Derek deal with this stuff?

"How did you get this?" Stiles asked, holding his hand in both of his own, not daring to touch the finger of his hurt knuckle, afraid of causing him more pain. Derek looked over at the mantel, a pile of in crumbles of it on the floor, Stiles' eyes following and his mood plummeting, "Oh, Derek..."

"Stiles, there's something I wanna talk about with you." The wolf blurted suddenly, setting his free hand on the kid's knee, shifting his seating to be ready to tell him everything.

"Sure, I just wanna make sure you're-" The younger teen turned his head back and looked down, stopping short, eyes catching something that made his brain start to spark.

"...Stiles?"

"What are you doing with that?" He pointed to Derek's wrist, green bracelet being revealed from where it was hidden under the thin cotton of his long sleeve, it had rode up after he'd adjusted his seating.

"I-I... Stiles, it's not... I'm s-"

"You bastard!" The kid stood up, pushing himself away from the other teen, "It's all starting to make sense. I was an idiot not to see it before."

"You weren't an idiot, you needed someone to talk to and I just... I knew you wouldn't talk to me, and-"

"Damn right, I wouldn't talk to you! Oh, God, all the things I told you. I-I told you everything." All the realization came to him; he didn't know what to do.

"Stiles..." Derek rose from his seat, stepping toward him. The younger teen reacted and tripped back, onto the floor, hand sticking into one of the broken shards of mirror on the floor. He cringed and quickly went to help Stiles up.

"No, d-don't touch me. Don't come around me. J-Just don't." The kid picked himself up shakily, holding his now bleeding hand to his chest, backing out of the living room and fumbling for the doorknob.

He got outside, and that's when the tears started to fall out of frustration as he searched for his keys, groaning and kicking his Jeep when he saw they were in the ignition. He let out a sob and wiped his eyes and got in his car, starting it up and making his way fast out of Derek's very long earshot, bypassing going to his house, driving right to the hospital and asking for Scott's mom, pretending all the pain and tears were from his hand.


	6. Communication

Stiles came through the front door of his home, throwing his keys down on the kitchen table and sighing, wishing he'd let Mrs. McCall give him those pain killers, regretting it as soon as the cold air hit him outside the hospital and while he drove home trying not to put too much pressure on his hand. He was getting used to driving at night, but still, he liked to have both hands on the wheel at that hour. He walked over to the fridge, opening it and peering in, not even hearing the footsteps approaching.

"Stiles."

He jumped, half closing the fridge to look up at the person who startled him, "Yeah, Dad?"

"You okay? ...What's wrong with your hand?" He noticed, of course he did. He was concerned for his son, he hadn't even seen him all day.

"I-I fell. Shard of glass stabbed me when I fell. Scott's mom fixed me up, though." The teen explained, trying to hide all the emotions of the day, even though he was failing. He was stressed, and a bit heartbroken. Sheriff Stilinski noticed that, too. He stepped closer, taking two beers from the fridge and moving to sit down at the table, beckoning his son to do the same, opening one of the drinks. Stiles sat down across from him, tapping his fingers on the wooden table.

"So, what is it?" He coaxed, taking a sip of his drink.

"Can I honestly tell you? W-Will you promise to take a few days to think it over before hating me?" Stiles blurted, emotions rising again. This isn't exactly how he wanted to start his "coming out" speech, so to speak. Was it even a coming out speech, or was it just a warning to his father?

"Stiles, it-"

"Please, Dad."

"Okay, okay," He sighed, starting to brace himself for whatever was coming. Did he get someone pregnant? Did he find someone dead? Was he dropping out of high school? He fidgeted with the bottle opening in his hand, "You know I love you, son. I can't hate you even if I wanted to. Which I don't."

That diffused the tension in Stiles' shoulders a notch, "Thanks."

He nodded, "Now tell me."

"Well," Stiles started, trying to word it right, "There might be a time... in the future... where... God, I can't do this."

Sheriff Stilinski watched his son put his head onto the table and groan, nails digging into his scalp. He was really having a tough time with this. He opened the other beer and slid it across the table, letting it bump his son's head. The teen made a small noise and looked up at the bottle, then to his father.

"Talk to me." He requested, ready for what his only child was about to tell him.

"Well..." He wrapped his ungauzed hand around the bottle, "In the future, I may, i-if I find someone..."

Silence.

"I-I might bring home... someone of, the male gender. A-As a date or... whatever." He mumbled out the last part, sitting up and taking a sip of the bitter alcohol, used to it from the times his father let him drink (and the other times he didn't), feeling his stomach flip when he looked up at him.

"Well, alright," Sheriff Stilinski said, relieved and shrugging, "I thought you were going to say you dropped out of school or found someone dead. You're gay."

"I'm not. Gay, I mean, but I'm not leaving school, either," He corrected, "I might bring home a girl... If I find one that actually likes me like that. I just... It goes both ways and I don't know a lot about it yet but that's all I got right now."

His father nodded, "Okay... I think I'll take those days you were talking about to get used to that, but know I still love you. Good talk, son."

He nodded, and his dad got up, giving him a kiss to the top of the head before walking into the living room, no doubt to watch some tv and do paperwork. Stiles sighed in relief and took a celebratory swig from his drink before heading up to his room without it. He plopped down onto his bed when he got there and raised his hips, taking out his cell phone and dialing Danny's number, setting it to his ear after.

"Hello?" He heard Danny's voice on the other line after three rings, sounding sort of hushed with others mumbling in the background.

"Hey, it's me. I just wanted to tell you that I told my dad, and he's cool with it. Although he's taking a few days to let it sink it, it went alright." Stiles told him, hearing the amused chuckle.

"That's awesome. I knew you wouldn't have problems with it. I'm happy for you. Does it feel any better to get it out?" The older lacrosse player asked, and the other heard the phone shift, like he was moving, then a blow of wind.

"It feels good. Thank you, Danny... Hey, um, are you busy or something? You sound busy."

"I'm just at my parents' business banquet, well, outside it now. There's a bunch of people inside, all dressed up and stuff. I'm glad you called, I needed a legit reason to go get some air." Danny confirmed, Stiles remembering that the other's parents were both doctors, and he could never pronounce their last name.

"Oh, well aren't I awesome?" He chuckled, "We can text if you need to go back in."

"Yeah, my mom gets high strong about me making good impressions, and I can't if I'm not in there. I'll text you as soon as I can." Stiles heard the wind stop, and he amused he'd gone back inside.

"Okay, I'll talk to you then." He said, waiting for Danny's goodbye before hanging up, setting his phone on his stomach after. He wished he had his backpack, he could be doing research for Scott, but Derek would probably be correcting him with something better. Stupid Derek Hale and his know-it-all perfectness. He hated Derek, but he loved him. He wanted him, but Derek was a jackass, making him trust him like that. How could he even turn into a dog, anyway?

There was a soft thump on his window, and Stiles looked up, seeing the flash of a sharp silver object before he staggered off his bed, reaching for whatever he could find under his bed. He grabbed a can and popped off the top; maybe if he did something ridiculous like get silly string all over whoever was coming in, they'd not know what do to and leave. It was farfetched. The lock on his window came open, and he got to his knees. The person opened the window, and climbed in, and Stiles didn't think that it could be Scott; he didn't think of anything, really, as he stood and sprayed the can. Pepper spray came out instead of silly spray, and Derek yelled when it got into his eyes. The younger teen immediately stopped, looking with wide eyes at the wolf in pain, then at the can before throwing it aside and helping him to the bathroom, apologizing profusely. He sat him down, then grabbed a cloth and wet it, squeezing it out and setting it to the older teen's eyes, listening to him groan and noticing his bandages gone but not the cuts, and the green band still on his wrist. Why hadn't he taken it off yet? Derek let Stiles clean off his face, the kid's backpack sliding off his shoulder and onto the floor next to him, tilting his head up when there was a finger under his chin.

"I'm sorry, Derek." He mumbled, dabbing and gently wiping at his eyes, feeling horrible when he groaned again in pain.

"I didn't know you hated me that much. I'm sorry." Derek told him, reaching up and wrapping his hand around the kid's wrist, pulling the cloth away and finally letting himself heal.

"I-I don't hate you... that much." Stiles replied, setting the cloth back on his face for something to do, letting himself get close, fingers on his free and bandaged hand touching the other's face as a guilty pleasure. There were few times when he'd gotten to touch the wolf's face.

"You don't?" Derek asked even thought he could hear the truth in his heartbeat, his own heartbeat thumping fast in his chest, skin feeling hot under the younger teen's touch.

"I-I... What are you doing here, anyway?" He could feel the wolf's breath on his face, and he leaned in closer, softly wiping under his eyes and the apples of his cheeks, other hand's fingertips at his jaw, almost cupping the side of his face in his hand.

"To say I was sorry. And I brought your backpack."

"You... and you brought my... Thank you."

"I didn't say I was sorry yet."

"Then do it."

Derek reached up and gently gripped the front of Stiles' over shirt, looking over his eyes slowly, knowing exactly what he wanted; what they both wanted. He leaned in, feeling his and the kid's heartbeat increase almost dramatically as their noses touched, lips less than an inch away. The shrill of Stiles' phone going off made the younger teen jump and move away, cloth dropping to go pick the phone up. He was so close, that better had been a text from someone important or he was going to be pissed. Derek watched with an unhappy expression as the kid grabbed his phone off the floor, a hint of amusement flooding his system as the other sat on the floor with his knees to his chest like a small child engulfed in a video game or drawing something. He watched him send something back with a small smile on those amazing full lips, and Derek found himself getting up and grabbing the backpack, going to sit on the floor next to him. Stiles kept his eyes locked on the screen of his phone, but his heartbeat gave him away when the wolf settled in next to him. Danny had texted him, saying that he was bored and that he'd rather be at home in sweats eating mac 'n cheese, even though his parents wouldn't approve of it. They needed him to be "social gay butterfly". Stiles had texted back laughing, and saying that his night was sort of going better than his.

"So... Maybe I should go if you're going to talk to someone else." The older teen mumbled, making the other teen look up at him. He could tell that Stiles didn't want him to go, but there was something else there, too.

"Maybe you should. T-Thank you for bringing my backpack back to me." He said, holding is ground. He couldn't just let Derek stay after he totally betrayed him, made up some fake identity... which wasn't really fake, but it was... He didn't know everything yet. The other teen nodded and went to get up, but not before getting close and placing a kiss to his cheek, making his whole body tingle and his skin feel hot. A smile smirk played on Derek's lips as he got up.

"When you're done hating me, and demand a reason for what I've done, you know I'll be listening. Just leave me a note and I'll come to you."

There was a small clatter of his window closing, then an almost silent thump outside. He listened hard to try and hear Derek running away from the house, but heard nothing. _Werewolves by birth, easy on their feet when they choose to be._ His phone beeped again.

* * *

><p><strong>Danny<strong> (Mobile)  
>Really now? And how is that? Did you have some hottie come over?<p>

**Stiles** (Mobile)  
>He came in through my window.<p>

**Danny **(Mobile)  
>"He"? Well, aren't you getting adjusted quickly? You want me to let you go so you can "talk" with him?<p>

**Stiles** (Mobile)  
>He's been the one I've had my eyes on, and he knows it now. And no, he's already gone. He almost kissed me, and I was nervous, so he kissed me on the cheek and left.<p>

**Danny **(Mobile)  
>Well, then... Come on, tell me who he is. Spill.<p>

**Stiles **(Mobile)  
>You don't know him, dude.<p>

**Danny** (Mobile)  
>Just tell me.<p>

**Stiles** (Mobile)  
>... I have to go to bed... Bye, Danny.<p>

**Danny** (Mobile)  
>Fine. Go beat off to your secret boyfriend. I'll get the answer out of you, just wait and see.<p>

**Stiles** (Mobile)  
>GOODNIGHT DANNY.<p> 


	7. Shifting

It took a week and a two days before the curiosity got the best of him. He'd read so much in the books Derek left him, with almost all his questions answered, that he almost forgave him. Almost. He still wanted to know how and why he'd become and actual wolf. He hadn't written it down. He tapped his pen against the page he was reading and sighed, wanting more answers. But could he really forgive him? Like really, really? He wasn't sure if Derek had learned a lesson in this... Even if it did help him. But he guessed it helped Derek, too. He knew who had a crush on him, and that he actually liked when he pushed him up against things and got into his face. He loved the closeness of it, even if he was being threatened. He picked up an empty notebook and marker, then went over to his window, opening it and dropping the items onto the grass outside.

"Derek, how did you turn into a full wolf? Give me a simple answer, 'kay?" He asked to the dark, barely able to see the woods across the road, even with the streetlights on. He rolled his eyes at how stupid he was being; he just talked to someone who wasn't there and expected a reply by notes like a little girl. He sat down on the floor, grabbing his book with a little help from a ruler, and kept reading. It had to be about five or six minutes when he heard the rustling of footsteps, then the paper, then the click of the pen. He felt a bit giddy, to say the least. A note came through his window, and he grabbed it, unballing it quickly and reading _"It's the next step in being a born werewolf. I've gotten to the point in my beta level where I can shift fully. Scott will need training if he wants to do it."_

"How do you shift?" He asked, not raising his voice, laying the paper on the floor next to him, another piece flying into his room after a moment. He grabbed it and read, _"Concentration. Anger, sometimes. Then it can be non voluntary."_

"I like the simple answer, thanks for that. Does it hurt?" He smiled a little, admiring the wolf's handwriting before setting it with the other torn off and crumpled papers.

_"When you're young and/or when you do it for the first time. And on full moons, it can hurt. Claws and canines coming through your human self, it felt like getting stabbed the first time I shifted."_

Stiles read and took that into consideration. He also noticed Derek told him something about his past, which was odd for him to open up at all, "I-I wanna see you do it."

"No." He heard softly outside in a incredulous tone, surprised as well. Why couldn't he have a learning experience? He wanted to see Derek shift, and the older teen should have been happy he wanted to see him at all.

"I don't care if it's dangerous. If you haven't noticed, I'm alive after all of Scott's shifts, and putting myself in danger to help you and him, after all the death threats by you. I at least deserve that as a thank you... And as the start of an apology, Derek." He shot back, and then there was silence. No audible movement outside, and he didn't move either. Maybe the wolf had run away when he was ranting. He sighed and went to get up, when another balled up paper came flying through his window. He grabbed at it greedily and opened it up.

_"My house. 2pm, tomorrow. Get some sleep, I want you alert and rested. Goodnight, Stiles."_

He threw his fist in the air, "Aw, yes!" He heard footsteps running away, and he looked out his window, able to catch a glimpse of Derek running across the road and into the woods, "Night, Derek."

* * *

><p>Stiles walked down the hall, fiddling with the bunched up paper in his hand. Only one more thing before he could leave the school and get to Derek's house. He'd held the note all day, wanting to remember the engagement and to have something if the wolf were to blow him off. He pushed open the door to the boys' locker room and and shoved the note into the pocket of his jeans. Scott smiled at him, getting his gear out of his bag.<p>

"Hey, man. I was wondering when you'd get here. I haven't seen you since chem." He said, pulling his shirt over his head to put on another. Stiles was glad he wasn't weird about changing in front of him now.

"That was two classes ago, dude. I had to go to History with Lydia." He replied, going to his locker and starting to change. Danny walked by, slowing down to whisper in his ear.

"I'll find out, Stiles." The taller teen was close, and he smirked when the smaller teen started, walking over to his locker and getting ready for practice.

Scott gave him a look, having heard him. Stiles just gave him a look back then ignored him and changed. All the lacrosse players filed out to the field, Scott grabbing the quirky teen by the arm.

"What is Danny going to find out?" He asked, a bit panicked. Stiles wouldn't actually tell Danny, would he?

"Nothing. Don't worry, it's not your big secret. Believe me, he's hooked on finding out something else." Stiles calmed him, "And you'll have to find a ride with someone else today. I have to go do research after school."

"Research?"

"Yeah, for us. Werewolf research. I'll be fine, don't worry."

"... I wasn't worrying until you said not to worry."

"Bilinski, McCall! Let's go!" Coach screamed at them, "McCall, on the field. You; laps."

Practice went by slowly while he ran around the field. He would never get to play, he knew that. Coach would probably never put him in. He'd rather forfeit than let him play, which sucked. Why was he even on the team again? Because it was something he wanted to do, although no one thought he could. After all the running for his life, and the thinking on his feet, he'd gotten pretty good. And he'd practiced outside in his back yard.

His mind suddenly drifted to Derek in his yard last night. Was he waiting out there for him, or could he really hear him that far away? He wasn't sure. More questions popped into his head when he thought about watching Derek shift. Would it be slow, or would it happen in the blink of an eye? Would there be a point where he'd be some half-wolf, half-human fuzz ball thing? Would he let him be in the same room when he shifted? He wanted to be as close as he could to see it with his own eyes, every little detail. He'd be in Derek's face if he could get that close. But how good was he at controlling the wolf in him? Would he have to take off his clothes to be a full wolf? He'd never seen him come running up on all fours shrugging off a leather jacket.

A whistle blew, and it startled him a bit, but it meant practice was over and he'd have to get to the old, burnt house to see a wolf who had expressed that he wanted to kiss him and kill him before... It sounded weird when he thought of it like that, but nevertheless, he ran off the field before anyone else and got back into the school. He was sweaty, and he needed to shower. He didn't like showering with the other guys, it made him feel awkward. He quickly took off his gear and discarded it into his locker, slipping off his shirt and shorts before checking to make sure he was alone. He slipped off his boxers in the shower, then started it up, the cold water hitting him and making him gasp. It warmed up after a moment, and he hoped everyone would be too tired to run to the school like he did. He needed a moment alone. He hated everyone else there with him; they'd be standing in a circle, comparing sizes or talking about other stupid things. He didn't want to be a part of that. No one had seen his dick, and he wanted to keep it that way. At least, from everyone but one or two. He rubbed himself with soap, cleaning the sweat off him. He didn't want Derek smelling sweat and lacrosse on him. He wanted him to smell... him. And the small scent of soap that would linger. That was another thing, Derek's senses. He wanted to know about those, too. Would he have to schedule another day with him?

He heard the locker doors squeak and the bustle of athletic gear and talking, and he panicked for just a second. He wiped the water from his eyes and turned off the shower, wrapping his towel around his waist and grabbing his underwear, leaving the showers as a group went in. He saw the rest of them getting ready to go in, shedding their clothes. He was curious, but he didn't look. He didn't want them to catch him staring. He went to his locker and got out his bag, looking at the other clothes he'd brought specially for his time at Derek's. He grabbed the fresh pair of boxers and made sure no one was watching before he slipped them on under his towel. He let the towel slip, and he dried off, then threw it on his shoulder. He felt it being pulled from his body, and he turned, seeing Jackson and a few of the popular jocks, Danny absent.

"Dude, give it back." He said, grabbing for it, only having the other pull it away.

"What if I don't want to?" The blond asked with a smirk, happy to be getting back at him for getting best friend-y with Lydia in their History class. She'd decided she wanted to sit next to Stiles today, so she did. Stiles wasn't her boyfriend, he was.

"Then I'll be wet." The quirky teen answered logically, earning a glare.

"Well, well, aren't you gonna look nice today?" Mitchell mocked, grabbing his bag with his clean clothes in it, looking through like was going to find gold. All the other things he had in there were his inhaler for seasonal asthma (and if Scott needed it), his bottle of Adderall, and his phone.

"Can you stop? I don't want stupid getting over all over my stuff." He shot at him, making the jock glare at him.

"Where are you going today, Stilinski? Maybe I'll give you a black eye, it'll be an improvement." Mitchell told him, Jackson chuckling.

That one was a hit to his self-esteem, and he decided he'd had enough.

"You know where I'm going? I'm going to see Jackson's girlfriend. And if he has a problem with it, I can tell everyone how he got those cuts on his neck." Stiles challenged, looking at Mitchell but then at Jackson, who's eyes widened at the mention of Lydia. He bombarded the other teen, shoving him into his locker, getting in his face, Stiles feeling awkward since they were both only wearing one piece of fabric on them each. He didn't like Jackson like that.

"Don't you dare. Stay away from her, and you can't out me without outing Scott and Derek Hale." He said, hushing his voice on the second part, glaring and his hand hurting the other's shoulder with how hard he was holding him.

"I'll do what I want. I can always make up that Derek kicked your ass and you cried like a newborn baby. Now, tell your idiots to get away from my stuff and give me my goddamn towel." Stiles told him in a quiet tone, "And get away from me, you smell like desperation."

Jackson was taken aback by the kid standing up for himself, and he backed off, taking Stiles' bag and and handing it to him, along with his towel. They walked off with unhappy expressions, into the shower no doubt to harass someone else. He took a deep breath, that was shaky, after they were out of sight, feeling an anxiety attack try to get him. Scott was suddenly there, hands on his chest and back, leaning down to look at him.

"Are you okay?" He asked with urgency, not knowing what happened, "Did they just... try and hurt you or something?"

"N-No... Jackson was being a douchebag, b-but I'm fine. I have to get to that research." Stiles tried to shake off the feeling as best he could and willed himself to stand up fully, to get dressed and just get out of there. He needed fresh air. He pulled himself away from Scott, who he gave a false reassuring smile to, and got dressed, happy to be in clothes again. He fixed his dark sleeveless v-neck then but on a plaid bright blue and white over shirt, leaving the sleeves rolled down. He made sure the zipper on his dark wash blue jeans was up and secure, then he got his things together and threw his bag over his shoulder, saying goodbye to Scott before he left the locker room, hand around the bunched paper again. He walked out to the parking lot, where Lydia was waiting for Jackson by her car, smiling when she saw him.

"Well, don't you look dapper?" She said, fixing the collar on his flannel.

"Thank you. You look... amazing. As always." He told her truthfully, smiling wider.

She giggled, "Thank you, Stiles."

"No problem. But, can I ask you a favor?" He saw Jackson walk through the double doors of the school, "Can you cover for me if my dad asks where I am? Just say I'm hanging out with you."

"Of course. You do it for me." Lydia nodded, tucking a piece of perfectly curled hair behind her ear.

"Thank you." He said quickly, leaning in and kissing her cheek, making her smile before he jogged to his car. He heard Lydia say that he was adorable when Jackson asked her what happened. He hopped into his Jeep, throwing his bag in the back, taking out his phone and dialing his father's number as he started up the engine.

"Hey, Stiles. What's up?" His dad answered in a few rings, sounding busy.

"I just wanna let you know that I'm hanging out with Lydia for a while, and I'll be home later, okay?"

"Okay, son. Have fun."

"I will."

They exchanged goodbyes and 'I love you's as Stiles turned onto the road from the parking lot, making his way to Derek's house. He hung up, taking a deep breath at what he could expect and how perfect the person was that was waiting for him, and him alone.

* * *

><p>When the old house came into view, he parked and killed the engine, getting out. He stuffed the note into his back pocket and made his way up to the house, knocking first before walking in, gently closing the door behind him.<p>

"Wow, no one knocks anymore." A voice said, and Stiles looked up, Derek at the top of the stairs.

"Well... It's still your house." Stiles responded, liking the way the wolf wasn't wearing his usual attire. He had a regular white shirt on, and dark navy jeans, no shoes or socks.

"Yeah, what's left of it," He looked around before sighing, "So, you really wanna see this, huh?"

"More than anything." The smaller teen replied, looking up at him like he was going to do it right there.

"Then come on, before I change my mind." Derek started walking down the hall, and Stiles tripped over himself in following, getting up the stairs in time to see him open a door and stand by it. The kid walked up to him, and the older teen ushered him inside, closing the door behind them. He picked up a pair of handcuffs and held them out to Stiles.

"What do you want me to do with those?" He asked, pointing to them.

The wolf made him take them, then he slipped off his shirt, "Cuff me, Stiles."

"O-Okay." He nodded, not being able to help as he eye-fucked Derek's torso. He took the other's wrists and handcuffed him, making sure they weren't too tight. The older teen walked over to the bed that sat in the corner of the room, bringing one leg up to rest his arm on, and Stiles sat next to him, facing him in almost the same fashion.

"How close to you want to be?" He asked, and the kid opened his mouth to talk, but he cut him off, "Just show me."

The younger teen did as he was told and crawled in close, between Derek's legs. The wolf looked a little dumbfounded for a moment, and it made him shrug, "I wanna see everything close up... f-for research purposes."

The older teen licked his lips and nodded, Stiles being so close he could feel his thigh against the back of his own, "Sure, research... But you do know you'll be in more danger being this close."

"Don't worry, the handcuffs will keep me safe." He said sarcastically, but was ready for it all. He didn't know if he'd react badly, but he was ready to find out. The wolf nodded once.

"But if you get scared, or you see me get out of control, I want you to run. Understand me?"

"Yes."

He understood him, but he knew he wouldn't be going anywhere. Derek gave a sigh, then looked down at his hands, and back up. Stiles was so close he saw the flickers of electric blue in his eyes before they started glowing that beautiful icy color. He was captured by it, and wished he could look into them forever. Derek let out a small grunt, eyes drifting shut as he tried to make the shift slower than normal for the kid. His skin started to crawl and his head instinctively turned to the side to make the pain minimal from going that slow, and he felt a hand on his cheek, a small gasp coming from Stiles as he felt his skin change. The wolf didn't open his eyes. He opened his mouth, letting the younger teen see his teeth before his canines came out, a soft growl being let out. He felt Stiles shiver, and heard his heart pump faster. He finally opened his eyes, seeing the kid's surprised and intrigued face.

Stiles felt the intense stare of those burning eyes, and he found himself scooting closer, other hand coming up to feel along Derek's shifted face. He looked into those eyes and couldn't help but get aroused at how utterly erotic they looked. As soon as Derek smelt the arousal, he growled louder and immediately shut his eyes, feeling his control slip, the animal trying to take over. Claws replaced fingernails, and he hunched his shoulders. Stiles should have been running by now, but he still stayed in the same place. Did he know? Probably not.

"Derek." He whispered, and the wolf's head turned just so, like a predator listening for it's prey. He felt a jolt of nervousness go through him, he'd seen that movement right before Scott had attacked him, from one of the many times he had. Derek pulled his hands apart slowly, the handcuffs creaking and stretching before breaking under the supernatural strength, "O-Oh, fuck."

The wolf felt the kid try to get up, and he pinned him by setting a sharp tipped hand on his upper thigh, making him whimper. He pulled him closer again, setting his own thigh over Stiles' to replace his hand, claws going up to brush against his neck, making him crane it to avoid breaking the skin. He looked up at him, eyes piercing him, low growls emitting from him as he watched the boy's face turn from emotion to emotion. He saw so many, it was hard to tell what some of them were. But he saw the want. He sensed many sensitive spot's on the kid's body, some the obvious, but one that confused him was his shoulder. His other hand came up and pushed away the fabric of the bright over shirt, licking his canines to see the creamy skin. It sent a pretty big reaction through Stiles' body, the scent hitting him seconds later and his vision went red, another growl coming out. He saw a blossoming bruise on his shoulder, the shape of a hand, it looked like to him. He felt instantly protective as his thumb ran over the abused skin.

Stiles audibly swallowed, trying to calm himself down while looking at the beautiful creature that had him pinned to that bed, almost painfully, but not enough; just heavy. He could tell Derek was getting upset by the way he sounded, and he gently, and slowly moved his hand to cup the wolf's cheek in his hand, turning his head to look at him.

"I'm okay." He whispered, his other hand being set on his chest, over his kick drumming heartbeat. The older teen almost whimpered at the contact, senses high. He'd never been this sensitive to touch before, though. Nothing he ever learned could prepare him for this kind of intimacy. He could never do this with anyone else. Stiles saw him relax and his eyes came up to meet those sandy browns, seeing them softer than before, less scared, "What are you feeling?"

Derek's hand moved down to the other's chest, over his heart. The younger teen let out a shaky breath, "You can feel my heart?"

He nodded.

"Turn back. I can see the full wolf some other time. J-Just come back to me." The kid quietly said, a bit urgent in his tone. The wolf closed his eyes and concentrated on shifting back to his human form, successfully doing it and trying to ignore the sense of arousal that he could still smell with the smaller teen that close. He took a breath and met eyes with him, now soft brown on light blue-green. Stiles set his hands on Derek's thighs, moving closer, intaking the smell of the other's slightly damp skin, "Wow."

Derek couldn't take anymore. He jumped the kid, pinning him down onto the bed so he was laying down; wrists above is head and legs slightly spread even though the wolf's thighs were holding him still, settled in the mattress on either sides of the him. The older teen leaned down, faces inches apart, warm breath ghosting over his lips and cheeks.

"You should have ran, Stiles."


	8. Monsters

"I-I'm not sorry for staying." Stiles whimpered, the wolf nosing at his cheek, moving toward his neck. His hands were still pinned above his head, Derek's hands at his wrists, brushing his thumbs against the sensitive skin, slightly loosening the hold when he knew the other wouldn't get away.

The older teen mouthed at his neck, leaving his teeth out of it for shock purposes. He could taste the arousal on the other's skin, along with the want and excitement. It was intoxicating. He let his tongue poke out and lick a line up the tendon, to right below his ear, another sensitive spot. A soft moan left the younger's lips, and he tugged gently in request of his hands to be freed. Derek obliged with one, and Stiles' hand came down to cup his cheek, pulling him up so their faces were close again. The quirky teen wet his lips.

"Derek."

The way he said his name made Derek's spine shiver. He took a moment and looked into his eyes, then he let their lips meet, eyes drifting shut and hands starting to roam. Their lips moved softly, slowly, but with passion that burned in their chests, making their bodies tingle all over. The wolf's hand slipped down to the waistband of the kid's jeans, fingertips slipping under his shirt and feeling along the smooth heated skin. Stiles moaned into his mouth, hand moving to grip the back of the other's neck, fingers in his hair, a tongue poking at his lips that he immediately let in. Derek's tongue wandered the younger's amazingly good tasting mouth, his tongue tangling and fighting with his own after a moment. Stiles let out a deep breath when they pulled away, and took a few seconds before pulling the older teen back down, forcing his tongue into his mouth, wanting to taste him better and feel around. The wolf let him, growling softly and moving closer, one of his legs between both of the kid's, wanting so badly to touch him in the most sensitive place on his body right now.

"Mm." Stiles couldn't help but letting it slip out as he pulled away, opening his eyes to see Derek do the same.

"Do you still hate me?" He asked, stroking the other's cheek softly, doing the same with his wrist.

"No, but I'm still mad at you." The kid told him, soft smile on his lips, Derek finally letting him go, laying on his side next to him. He looked over at him, laying his arm under his head to support it.

"Anger is better than hate." He said, shrugging, his hand gliding across the small part of the other's abdomen that was showing, down the fine trail of hair, then over to his hipbone.

"Y-Yeah, I guess." Stiles shivered a little, trying to keep his emotions and urges in check until after he was sure Derek was sorry, the finger along the jut of his hip not helping much, "Why'd you do it, though? The truth."

The older teen sighed, "You have to understand that I felt how alone and unhappy you were, and how you thought you couldn't go to anyone because you'd bother them. I knew you wouldn't open up to me yet... and I had a new ability. I used it to it's fullest in my opinion. I didn't know you were going to say anything about me, that's the truth."

"Wow. I-I didn't know you could sense that stuff." He replied, biting his lip.

"I can't with lots of people, but sometimes it's obvious... And sometimes you have a special connection. Sometimes I could tell when you wanted me... Or wanted Ben around, that is." The wolf said quietly, leaning a bit closer, letting his attraction to the kid be more known as a connection. He wanted a connection with him.

"So... I'm special?" Stiles asked, a bit in awe that Derek would care for him like that. He was starting to understand his side of the story.

"Yes, you are. To me." He nodded, rubbing circles into the kid's abdomen.

The younger teen smiled, sitting up, "Well, that's good to know."

He got up, and Derek went to do the same, sitting at the edge of the bed, "Are you still angry at me? What can I do to make you like me again? I can try to shift again, but I'll need some time... I don't wanna hurt you."

Stiles grabbed the handcuff key off the old bedside table, kneeling down in front of him, taking his wrist and unlocking the cuff, placing a kiss to the slightly abused skin after, "You don't have to shift again today. I told you I could see it some other time."

The wolf nodded, watching the smaller teen unlock the other cuff and place a kiss to the skin, making him smile. He leaned down, capturing his lips in a short kiss before the kid pulled away, smiling and blushing slightly.

"I should go, I have homework." He said softly, standing back up, setting the key back on the table. Derek stood as well, grabbing his hand and pulling him back to him, against his bare chest, the pale hands running down his skin.

"My jacket's on the end of the stair rail. It'll get cold tomorrow, take it." He told the kid, wanting him to stay, but if he had to leave, at least he'd have his own scent so he could find him a bit easier amongst all the people in his school, if he needed to.

"What'll you wear?" Stiles asked, concerned for him. He'd be giddy about wearing the wolf's clothes, but he was worried the other would get sick.

"I have clothes, Stiles... And fur, now. Don't worry about it." He assured, playful smile dancing on his lips.

"O-Okay, and..." The smaller teen looked at his wrist, holding the one up with the green band still on, "Keep that on."

"I promise." He said, giving another kiss to those pouty lips, holding his face in his hands. They pulled apart, and the kid tripped a bit as he left the room after saying goodbye, walking slowly down the stairs and having a good look at the place before his hand came to rest on the leather piece of clothing hanging off the end of the stairs. He bit his lip, and took it into his hands for a moment before putting it on, seeing it was too a bit too big for him, although he didn't care. He chuckled softly, then went out to his Jeep.

* * *

><p>He walked into school that next morning, backpack hanging from one of his shoulders, leather jacket keeping him warm and making him feel more confident. People looked at him, girls smiled at him, guys stared. Even Danny stopped in his tracks and stared.<p>

"Stiles, you look... amazing. Like, bright and happy and... Where'd you get the jacket?" The taller lacrosse player said, liking the rested look on the kid's face and the new sense of confidence he emitted.

"The one who came through my window." He said, going back to walking, Danny next to him.

"I've never seen anyone in that jacket before. Where are you hiding him?" He asked quietly, both of them walking by a staring Jackson, the older waving to receive a small one back in response. Stiles ignored him all together.

"I'm not hiding him. You just... don't know him." The kid shrugged, remembering how slow he watched Derek shift, the intimacy of the moment, the kiss.

"...Did something happen between you and him? You look too happy just to be in his jacket." They turned the corner, getting closer to English. The smaller teen licked his lips without realizing.

"You don't need to know." Stiles held the door open for him, following into the classroom after, smiling at Scott and Allison before taking his seat in front of them. They were talking, and he didn't feel like interrupting him.

Scott noticed the jacket, the scent of Derek hitting him the moment Stiles walked in the room. He was getting close with Derek? His best friend had told him about the confrontation, and his hand, which his mother had also told him about. Did Stiles forgive the older wolf just like that? It had only been a week.

Class started, and they took notes, slipping in a text message or two when the teacher would take a sip of her coffee or taking a break to turn the page and find her next line. Stiles already had most of the notes from reading ahead, but he took a few extras anyway. His phone was buzzing in his pocket and he reached for it, seeing a text from Danny, and another from Scott.

* * *

><p><strong>Scott<strong> (Mobile):  
>What's up with you in Derek's jacket?<p>

**Stiles** (Mobile):  
>It's cold. He let me wear it.<p>

**Danny** (Mobile):  
>Come on, tell me something.<p>

**Stiles** (Mobile):  
>I like cheeseburgers.<p>

**Scott** (Mobile):  
>Stiles, tell me what happened.<p>

**Stiles** (Mobile):  
>You don't want to know.<p>

* * *

><p>Truthfully, he didn't want to tell Scott about Derek. He wanted to keep the special shift between him and the older wolf, not to mention everything after that. It was the most intimate thing he'd ever done, and he didn't want to talk about it. Derek hadn't hurt him, so why was his best friend concerned? Sure, his hand was still bandaged up, but his clumsiness was to be blamed for that. It wasn't Derek's fault.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Scott<strong> (Mobile):  
>I do. One day you're all mad at him, and then you're coming to school in his clothes?<p>

**Stiles** (Mobile):  
>I haven't forgiven him, if that's what you're thinking.<p>

**Danny** (Mobile):  
>Stiles!<p>

**Stiles** (Mobile):  
>Danny!<p>

**Scott** (Mobile):  
>Then why are you wearing his clothes?<p>

**Stiles** (Mobile):  
>Because I'm special!<p>

* * *

><p>"Mr. Stilinski. No phones in class, go get a detention slip in the office." The teacher told him sternly, hands on her hips. He sighed and collected his things, giving a look to Scott and Danny before leaving the room.<p>

He walked slowly down the very empty hallway, everyone else in class. His phone vibrated in his hand and he looked, two more texts, probably the guys saying sorry. He decided not to read them yet. He slipped it into his jeans pocket as he walked by the locker room, and was suddenly pulled in, being slammed against the lockers. He grunted, looking around for the offender when he was met face to face with him. He gasped.

"Did you really think you can prance around in a cute little outfit and I wouldn't notice? Or all the times you thought I didn't notice when you looked at me in here? What were you looking to see, Stilinski?" He growled, pressing against Stiles. The kid moved to push him away, but hands on his wrists were pinning them back on either side of his head, pain coursing through his bandaged hand.

"J-Jackson, what are you t-talking about? Let me go, you're h-hurting me." Stiles tried again to push himself away from the lockers, and the jock groaned lowly, pressing his hips against the other teen, hearing him squeak. The quirky teen panicked as he felt something poking him in the inner thigh. He wanted Jackson away from him, right now.

"You know what I'm talking about, Stiles!" He raised his voice, frustration overtaking him more second by second, "You like guys, don't you? You check other guys out, I've seen you. And you ignored me today. I can't take it anymore."

"H-How did you...? Jackson, y-you can't tell anyone. Just please leave m-me alon-" He was cut off, lips on his, moving with hunger, hands gripping him harder, hips thrusting up against him. Stiles didn't move. He didn't know what to do. He tried to keep his mouth shut, but a thigh up against his crotch made him gasp, and Jackson's tongue invaded his mouth, taking what it wanted. He mustered up the strength and ignored the pain in his hand, pushing the jock away as his eyes started to water.

Jackson looked angry, but satisfied with himself. He moved forward again and caressed the kid's cheek, feeling him slap his hand away. He returned it with a slap to his face. Stiles sobbed and slipped down onto the floor, hugging his knees to his chest, feeling overwhelmed and violated.

"Keep yourself in check, Stiles. You don't want to speak up to me again like you did yesterday," Jackson told him softly, "And if you do, you'll see what it's like to have that pretty little mouth properly fucked."

He sobbed again as soon as the other was gone, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, the taste of Jackson bitter to him. Tears streamed down his face, and he couldn't get up, didn't know what to do. After a few moments, he willed himself to get off the floor, his head feeling dizzy and a horrible feeling in his stomach settled, making him feel sick. He shakily made his way to the door, wiping his eyes on his hands before leaving the locker room. He didn't go back to class, instead he went as fast as he could to his car, climbing in and slipping off Derek's jacket, sobbing into the long sleeves of his flannel shirt, laying his arms over the steering wheel. He cried himself hoarse, and took his keys and shoved them in the ignition, knowing it was dangerous for him to be driving like this, not that he cared. He left the school, driving to the only place where he thought he could go without being judged.

* * *

><p>"D-Derek!" He called, walking into the house, jacket held to his chest, voice sounding broken as it echoed throughout the house. The wolf was visible in seconds flat, running down the stairs to him, looking worried.<p>

"What happened?" He asked, coming up to the boy, a feeling instantly hitting him, "Someone hurt you. Who was it? What did they do to you?"

"J-Jackson cornered me in the locker room, he threatened me and... a-and he kissed me. I-I don't like him like that, though. I like you. I'm sorry, Derek." Stiles hiccuped, tears staining his face, eyes red and puffy.

The wolf took him into his arms, holding him tight against his chest, "It's okay, Stiles. It's okay. Did he do anything else?"

"He hit me and t-told me not to speak up to him a-anymore or..."

"Or what?"

"Or I'd see what it's like to get my pretty little mouth properly fucked."

Derek saw red. No one should talk to the other teen like that. Especially someone like Jackson. His arms tightened on Stiles, and he lifted him up into his arms, carrying him upstairs. He sniffled and held to the older teen, finding himself being brought to the same room as yesterday, sitting him down on the bed. The wolf let go of him to run and tell Jackson exactly what he could do if he ever talked to Stiles like that again, but a hand on his arm stopped him.

"D-Don't leave me." The smaller teen whimpered, setting the jacket to the side, seeing his eyes glowing that beautiful icy color, seeing he was upset and rigid all over, "Keep me warm."

Derek knew he was begging him to stay, not to leave him and kill Jackson. He sighed, and gently pushed Stiles back onto the bed, laying down next to him and hugging him close. The kid cuddled into his arms, a few stray tears bleeding onto the wolf's dark pullover hoodie. He hadn't even noticed it until now. He gently moved his non bandaged hand down to the hem, letting his hand slip under it and the shirt underneath, onto the warm skin of his abdomen. He instantly felt closer to him, and he sighed in contentment. The other's hands rubbed his back, taking his jacket and draping it over him, hand moving under the fabric of his flannel, surprised to feel no undershirt and slightly chilled skin.

"I won't let him hurt you anymore." Derek whispered to him, a plan forming in his head, pulling his sleeve over his free hand and leaning back slightly to wipe away the tears from the kid's face, hating to see those wonderful brown eyes sad and red.

"How are you gonna do that?" He asked quietly, under a whisper as the hand was on his face, but he was sure the wolf heard him. He already knew he'd be taken care of, but he wanted to make sure no more bodies would turn up.

"You'll see. Just relax for now." The wolf assured.

Stiles nodded and let his eyes drift shut, nuzzling back into him, feeling gently along the other's skin. It was softer than he expected. It made him curious. He traced his around his bellybutton, then down the almost non existent trail of hair that delved into his jeans. He let his fingers ghost up and onto his hip, remembering how Derek did it to him, hearing a soft hum of approval from the older teen, making him want to do more. His hand drifted down, bypassing the other's belt to gently cup him through the thick fabric of his jeans. The wolf reacted with a gasp, backing his hips away, biting his lip when Stiles didn't back off, holding his very warm hand there.

"S-Stiles, you don't have to do that." He said, trying to ignore how his fingers moved without knowing exactly what to do, palm warm and strong against him, making him hard in seconds.

"I'm curious... What happens when you get turned on?" He asked, opting for another learning experience to make him feel better, and to see what Derek looked like all hot and bothered.

"You're always wanting to learn, aren't you?" The wolf tried to keep his voice leveled, hips shifting slightly against the hand.

"I can concentrate when I'm with you." He said quietly, leaning closer into him, pressing their chests together, his own hips pressing against the back of his hand as he started rubbing him, wondering the reaction he'd get. The wolf bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, his eyes flashing blue.

"Stiles, stop it." Derek told him sternly, a bit desperately. He wanted to comfort the kid, not lose control and fuck him senseless. He felt overly sensitive again, just like during his shift, the other's hand like fire over him, touching him like he wanted to touch Stiles.

"B-But Derek..." He felt adrenaline shoot through him, also nervousness. He didn't want to listen to being told to stop, he wanted to keep his hand there and soak in that he was touching him like that, making him feel good. He added slight pressure.

The wolf groaned, hips jerking forward without permission, egging the smaller teen on as he moved his other hand to his belt, trying to unbuckle it while ignoring the pain it cause. He wanted to touch Derek without anything in his way. The older teen growled lowly, grabbing his hands and forcing them away, climbing on top of the other teen and holding him still. It startled Stiles, but a load of arousal ran throughout his whole body, spine and other body parts tingling in pleasure at the way Derek's eyes were starting to glow, breathing heavy.

"When I shifted, do you know how it felt?"

Stiles shook his head a little, noticing the way the other's hips twitched, like he was holding back getting closer.

"It was different than all the other times. I was so sensitive under your touch, and it was the most intimate and special thing that's ever happened to me. There was so much happening inside me, and yet I could hold back just enough with your voice telling me you were okay. Why do you do that to me?" Derek said, begging for an answer he knew the kid wouldn't have.

Stiles opened his mouth to answer, but didn't know what to say. He didn't know the wolf was going through this, and it shocked him when his canines came out, eyes flaring as he whimpered and moved away. The kid sat up to see him move to the edge of the mattress and pull his knees to his chest, head down while he concentrated on coming back to himself. He crawled over to him, setting a hand on the side of his face.

"You don't want a monster like me, Stiles. You really don't." He said quietly, eyes not meeting those beautiful sandy browns.

"You're not a monster, Derek. You were never a monster to me," The younger teen crawled in between his legs, both hands holding the other's face, extra teeth making him smile a bit, "You're the most beautiful person I've ever met, wolf attached."

He looked up at Stiles then, hearing his heartbeat steady and unwavering. The kid leaned his head to the side a bit, gently kissing the wolf's lips regardless of the sharp canines, opening his eyes after to see them sink back into Derek's mouth. He smiled softly. He met the normal blue-green eyes, a shaky and relieved breath being let out and arms wrapped around him. Pulling him closer and into a kiss, tongues clashing as soon as they could, a moan of "I forgive you" being mixed in, and the older teen had him pinned back to the mattress in seconds.


	9. Home

**_Oh, all my good Sterek fics are ending. I hope I get a new idea to dazzle all of you with soon. There will be an alternative chapter, but then it'll be done. Thanks for reading. :3_**

* * *

><p>Stiles awoke when it was still slightly dark, and he guessed it was the early morning. A soft breeze was felt on his bare shoulders, but he didn't mind it. It was a refreshing way to wake up. He turned around, onto his back, the warm body pressed against his own moving slightly to adjust to him. He cuddled into Derek's arms that were still slung around him, pulling the blanket closer to them. He placed kisses onto the wolf's neck, feeling the light scratch of stubble as he made his way up along his jawline. He remembered how the other's skin felt against his own yesterday, having it everywhere, lips, too; against his own, against his jaw, neck, chest, stomach, and lower down. There was almost no place where Derek didn't explore him. It was all perfect, even when Derek's shift started to take him, and the moment he came back from it and they both-<p>

The wolf opened his eyes, soft and sleepy, happy to see him, "You stayed."

"Of course I did. Why wouldn't I?" Stiles asked softly, pushing the other's hair from his forehead, smiling at how both their voices were a bit scratchy.

"I just... I thought I hurt you last night, I was rough." He explained, hand gliding across the kid's abdomen, over a bruise he knew had bloomed from where he'd held him so hard.

"I feel fantastic." The younger teen said, leaning up and pressing his lips to the other's.

"No pain?" The wolf asked after they pulled away, listening to his lover's heartbeat just in case.

"No, not really. Maybe a little sore, but that's supposed to happen your first time, right?" He asked, setting his hand over Derek's, getting him to stop rubbing the bruise on his lower side, lacing their fingers together.

"Yeah, but I could have been easier for you, gone slower for you." The older teen told him, reviewing everything he did last night, finding all his faults, thinking of all the things he could have done better.

"No, it was perfect." Stiles gave him a peck to the lips, smiling reassuringly. He thought it really was perfect, every second of it. He could find nothing wrong with everything he and Derek had done.

The wolf smiled, a sense of happiness washing over him, radiating from the quirky teen laying next to him. Stiles chuckled and pulled him in for a kiss, the older teen's tongue poking at his lips before he eagerly let it inside, the wet muscles moving against each other. A moan left the smaller's lips, making the wolf smile and pull away.

"You do know that I'll still make you go to school today, no matter how many times you do that." Derek said, rubbing his thumb against the boy's hand.

"I know. But I'll have to go home and shower, get dressed and deal with my dad asking why I spent the night over Lydia's." He rambled, not wanting to have a talk like that with his father again for a while.

"He thinks you're with Lydia? The cute little redhead that already knows you like guys even thought she's waiting for you to tell her?" The older teen asked, smiling at how Stiles had friends that would be so good to him, he approved of the girl.

"Strawberry blond, and... What?" Stiles asked, eyebrows stitching together.

"I hear things," He shrugged, "You can shower here, and wear my clothes to school."

"...Wearing your clothes didn't go too well the first time, Derek." He said, frowning.

"It'll be different this time. I'll even pick you up early so we can be together, okay?" The wolf reasoned, hand coming up to brush his thumb against the boy's cheek, wanting him to smile again.

He nodded, blush dusting the apples of his cheeks, small smile pulling at his lips, "Okay."

* * *

><p>Stiles took deep breaths as he walked through the hallway, seeing through the long wall of windows that Derek's Camaro was getting farther away before it was gone. He'd already fought a panic attack in the wolf's car, but a few kisses and promises that it would be okay later, he'd exited the car in Derek's pullover sweatshirt and dark jeans, belt securely around his waist just in case. A hand on his shoulder made him jump, and flinch away.<p>

"Woah, you okay?" Danny's voice made him feel better, it meant he was safe for now. He wouldn't let Jackson hurt him.

"U-Uh yeah. I'm really good." He said, and he actually was when he thought about himself and Derek. He was more than good, he was amazing.

"Awesome," The older lacrosse player walked with him, "Hey, are those clothes...?"

"His? Yeah." Stiles nodded, smiling that he noticed, feeling good with the smell of Derek around him.

"And... Holy shit." Danny moved the collar of the sweatshirt back, revealing the other teen's hickey marred neck.

The younger teen blushed and pulled the taller's hand away, "That's what I said."

"He gave you those?"

"Yeah."

"...Did you two... you know?"

Stiles chuckled softly, blushingly, he nodded his head, "L-Last Night."

"And you're school today? You're tough." Danny congratulated him, after his own first time, he didn't go to school the next day.

The kid shrugged, "He was gentle."

Danny chuckled, "I'm glad you're happy with him. Are you gonna tell me his name?"

"Nope." Stiles smiled, walking to his math class.

* * *

><p>Stiles wiped the sweat from his forehead, taking one of his gloves off to grab his water bottle. Jackson bumped into him, making him cough and spill his drink, raising an eyebrow before running back onto the field to his friends. He sighed, Scott coming up to him.<p>

"You okay?" He asked, then noticed the bruises on his neck, "What happened to you?"

"I'm fine... I should probably tell you that-"

"Practice is over, let's go!" Coach yelled. Stiles sighed and followed the other players back to the school. He saw Jackson tell his friends to go inside, that he needed to deal with something, and the quirky teen stopped about ten feet from the door, Scott stopping with him.

"McCall, you can go ahead. I gotta talk with Stilinski." Jackson told them, and Scott raised an eyebrow.

"You can talk with me here, it's cool." The young wolf said, shrugging.

"No, I need to talk to him. By himself." The pretty teen held back a glare, not wanting to alert the tan skinned teen that he'd been harassing and assaulting Stiles. Scott looked to his best friend, and a nod was shared.

"It's fine, Scott. Go ahead," He turned his head to the side, seeing Coach checking his clipboard. That could work to keep him safe, "I think Coach wants to talk with you anyway."

Scott nodded and walked down the hall to Coach, and Jackson looked over at Stiles, an angry expression on his face. He took him by the front of his shoulder pads, and dragged him down the empty hallway, around the corner so they wouldn't be seen. A bad feeling settled in Stiles' stomach, and the sick feeling that he'd gotten from Jackson before. He was slammed against the lockers, the other teen pressing up against him again.

"Do you remember what I said?" Jackson asked in a low voice, setting the hand that wasn't holding the slightly taller teen, against the lockers by his head, wanting an answer.

"To which thing was that, Jackson?" Stiles asked sarcastically, name tasting bitter on his lips, feeling the pretty teen press him harder against the lockers, one lock digging into his lower back, another right against his spine.

"I told you to stay away from Lydia. She said she was with you all night, that's why I couldn't come over. Don't think I didn't see the bite marks and happy fucking attitude today. What the fuck did you do with her?" He explained, demanding an answer. He was going to beat the little faggot to a pulp if he tried to deny himself with Lydia as a distraction.

Stiles shrugged. He'd talked with Lydia at lunch, and she'd been having a night to herself; doing homework, making herself pretty (which she'd sent pictures to ask which he liked best), and texting Allison. He remembered Derek's comment from that morning, and he'd confessed that he liked guys as well as girls; she took it wonderfully, making a comment about why he didn't tell her before, and said she loved him just the same and was happy he told her when he was comfortable.

Jackson was an inch away from him, angry and looking like he was going to hit him, "What. Did you do. With her? Tell me right now, or I swear, I'll hurt you."

"How are you gonna hurt me? Kiss me again? Because, really, that was fucking painful." Stiles spat, pushing him away, feeling empowered without knowing exactly why. The other teen was taken aback, and went to deliver a blow to him, being stopped when his hand was raised. Jackson tried to pull away, looking up at the person who stopped him, Derek Hale's burning eyes glaring at him.

"You will never hit him again. Ever, or you won't have an arm anymore." He growled at the teen, hand around his wrist tightening painfully before letting go.

Jackson whimpered a little, but tried to stand his ground, "You have n-no right to tell me wha-what I can and can't do. You don't o-own him."

"No, but I marked him. And if you ever do anything to make him feel even uncomfortable again, you'll have to deal with me. Understand, pretty boy?" Derek told him, not waiting for an answer before looking at Stiles, his eyes dulling and sparking softly, "Go back to Scott and Danny, I'll be there in a minute."

The young teen nodded and shakily went back around the corner to a predatory-looking Scott and a confused Danny. He made his way over to them, hearing a small thump against the lockers, turning his head and whispering for Derek not to kill him.

"What's going on?" Danny asked, setting a hand on his shoulder, "You look really pale."

"I-I just... It's nothing." He said, leaning forward and tapping Scott on the face to refocus his eyes, which were starting to glow. His best friend looked at him, fists unclenching.

"Why didn't you tell me, Stiles?" He asked.

"I didn't want to bother you. I didn't want you to worry about me." The quirky teen told him, feeling more upset by the second. He didn't want to cry here.

"Tell him what?" The tall lacrosse player asked, looking back and forth between the two best friends.

"That Jackson sexually assaulted him, and threatened him." Scott almost growled.

"What?" Danny looked at Stiles, eyes upset and caring, "Stiles..."

"I'm fine." The quirky teen said, and they all heard the loud whimper that came from around the corner, along with a cry and soft sob. They turned to see, Jackson stumbling out, holding his upper arm tightly, tears streaming down his face.

"Jackson, why did you hurt him?" Danny felt bad seeing his friend in possible pain, but wondered why the other teen would do that to Stiles.

"I'm sorry, Stiles," Jackson said, his voice shaking, holding his dislocated shoulder, "I'm so sorry, I should come to terms with myself. I'm sorry."

Stiles' eyebrows knitted together before he realized Derek probably made him say that, and looked for the wolf who was coming around the corner, an almost satisfied look on his face, something he tried to keep hidden. Jackson whimpered when he saw him, and apologized again before hastily making his way into the locker room. Danny went to follow, but set a hand on the kid's shoulder.

"That's him, isn't it?"

Stiles smiled a bit up at him, and then the older teen nodded before he stepped into the locker room, Scott being the only one left, seemingly having calmed down, "What's been going on here? Like, between you two?"

The quirky teen was about to answer when he was pushed against the wall, lips on his which he knew to be the older wolf's, gingerly moving his own against them. It was simple enough, and a swell of positive emotion built inside him, making him feel amazing. They broke apart, Derek giving him a smirk before turning to Scott.

"Hope you don't mind, but you're going to have to share him from now on."

* * *

><p>"Dad, time for dinner!" Stiles called, setting the plates full of pasta on the table, feeling giddy that it was their first official meal all together. His father appeared after a moment, taking off his glasses and setting them in his shirt's breast pocket, helping his son with the glasses his was trying to carry, along with a beer bottle. They three of them sat down, and silence overtook them, making the teen nervously tap his foot. A hand sat itself on his knee, and he looked up, Derek giving him a reassuring smile. His father hadn't pistol whipped him yet, and things were going well.<p>

"So, Derek," Sheriff Stilinski started, swallowing the food in his mouth, looking at the older teen who looked back with an innocent expression, "Where have you been staying?"

"In my house." The wolf answered, nodding a little when the Sheriff looked at him with an unbelieving expression, "It's not as bad as you'd think, I like it there."

"But it's cold. And is it clean?" He asked another question, knowing Stiles visited that house. He wanted to make sure it was safe.

"I find ways to keep warm, and my room wasn't as... burnt as the others. It's livable, in my opinion. I've cleaned what I needed to." Derek assured, glancing at Stiles, reaching over and taking his hand under the table.

"You don't have to hide that from me, you know." The Sheriff commented before taking another bite of his food, satisfied with the answers he'd gotten, and the hands that came up to rest comfortably on the tabletop.

"Dad... D-Do you think Derek could stay here tonight?" Stiles tried, biting his lip.

"Nope, school night." He shot his son's idea down abruptly, smiling a bit to himself.

The teens shared a look, but continued to eat. There was small conversation, about school and if Derek went anymore, The Sheriff asking about the older teen's drinking habits after testing him with getting him a beer. To be funny, Derek took a swig, then handed it back, telling him he had good taste, causing a chuckle from the father. Stiles watched them talk, not really saying much unless he had to, commenting about the wolf when he thought it could be needed. They spoke about his car, and how he was not allowed to have Stiles in it at fast speeds, also no sleepovers unless approved. If there was one, the door would be open and the older teen would sleep on the floor at the end of the bed. They were allowed to be on the couch, but with hands visible, which Stiles knew he wouldn't follow if they watched movies together. And if there was a new death in the town, he would have Derek in his sights, and would need an alibi before he got through the front door. Derek agreed, although just to make the Sheriff happy.

After dinner, the Sheriff washed dishes, making his son dry them and the wolf put them away, then gave the two some time alone in the living room while he worked on a case in the dining room, listening closely but not hearing much. The two sat silently on the couch, television on but neither of them really watching. Stiles was cuddled into Derek, close enough to be almost sitting in his lap, which Derek would have preferred, but was settling with his hand up the back of the teen's shirt, tracing the lower half of his spine slowly. Stiles' eyes were closed, heartbeat a bit fast, hand haphazardly on the other's chest, moving down the dark fabric of his shirt and wrapping around his waist, nuzzling his face into his neck. The wolf smiled at the lips attaching themselves to his neck, but knew Stiles couldn't start this here, he was just pushing the limits of what his father would allow.

Sheriff Stilinski looked up and saw his son, then cleared his throat loudly, Stiles pulling away and blushing a deep red, Derek healing the mark the boy's teeth and lips made before his father could see it. He looked over at him, those red cheeks making him chuckle softly and trace the next bone in his spine as he leaned down and gave him a soft peck to the lips, which made the Sheriff clear his throat more violently the next time.

When it was time for Derek to leave, he ushered him out the door before Stiles had time to kiss him goodnight, then smiled at his son before making sure the older teen got into his car and drove away. He gave a "goodnight, son" before retiring up to his room for the night, satisfied about being strict. Stiles sighed and waited downstairs, pacing the room and flipping through television channels before there was a familiar scratching at the front door. He jumped up and opened it, a big black dog sitting on the step, dark outfit between his canines that the teen took and tucked under his arm. The dog walked in, following Stiles up the stairs, watching him tell the Sheriff that it was only Ben before opening the door to his room. After they were both inside, Stiles closed and locked the door, seeing the dog jump up onto the bed and get under the covers.

He smiled and set the clothes on his dresser, then slipped off his own shirt, watching the lump under the covers shift and get bigger, then Derek laid back on the bed, bare torso uncovered from the blanket, smiling at his boyfriend as he put his arms behind his head. Stiles smiled widely and crawled into bed, into the loving arms that had opened to him.

"You think this is approved?" He whispered to the older teen, his fingertips starting to trace the defined abdomen muscles, wetting his lips.

"Definitely not. But being arrested will be so worth it." Derek smirked and leaned over, attaching their lips.


	10. Dislocated, Alternative Chapter

Summary: If Stiles hadn't gone to school that day. _  
><em>Note:_ Fuck Alpha!Peter, I do what I want._

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><p>Stiles awoke when it was still slightly dark, and he guessed it was the early morning. A soft breeze was felt on his bare shoulders, but he didn't mind it. It was a refreshing way to wake up. He turned around, onto his back, the warm body pressed against his own moving slightly to adjust to him. He cuddled into Derek's arms that were still slung around him, pulling the blanket closer to them. He placed kisses onto the wolf's neck, feeling the light scratch of stubble as he made his way up along his jawline. He remembered how the other's skin felt against his own yesterday, having it everywhere, lips, too; against his own, against his jaw, neck, chest, stomach, and lower down. There was almost no place where Derek didn't explore him. It was all perfect, even when Derek's shift started to take him, and the moment he came back from it and they both-<p>

The wolf opened his eyes, soft and sleepy, happy to see him, "You stayed."

"Of course I did. Why wouldn't I?" Stiles asked softly, pushing the other's hair from his forehead, smiling at how both their voices were a bit scratchy.

"I just... I thought I hurt you last night, I was rough." He explained, hand gliding across the kid's abdomen, over a bruise he knew had bloomed from where he'd held him so hard.

"I feel fantastic." The younger teen said, leaning up and pressing his lips to the other's.

"No pain?" The wolf asked after they pulled away, listening to his lover's heartbeat just in case.

"No, not really. Maybe a little sore, but that's supposed to happen your first time, right?" He asked, setting his hand over Derek's, getting him to stop rubbing the bruise on his lower side, lacing their fingers together.

"Yeah, but I could have been easier for you, gone slower for you." The older teen told him, reviewing everything he did last night, finding all his faults, thinking of all the things he could have done better.

"No, it was perfect." Stiles gave him a peck to the lips, smiling reassuringly. He thought it really was perfect, every second of it. He could find nothing wrong with everything he and Derek had done.

The wolf smiled, a sense of happiness washing over him, radiating from the quirky teen laying next to him. Stiles chuckled and pulled him in for a kiss, the older teen's tongue poking at his lips before he eagerly let it inside, the wet muscles moving against each other. The kid tugged him closer, wanting a tighter hold. Derek picked up on the want, and crawled on top of him, the smaller teen opening his legs and shifting his hips to get ready for the next step.

"I know what you want, but I can't give it to you," The older teen whispered against his lips, "It'll hurt you too much."

"But Derek..." Stiles pulled away, but was silenced by lips back on his. A hand rubbed his inner thigh, making him moan softly into the other's mouth. Derek gently broke the kiss and looked down at his lover.

"We can't."

The smaller teen sighed, "Well... Are you gonna make me go to school today?"

"No, you deserve to rest."

"Rest... In bed? With you?"

"Nope."

"What?" Stiles sat up carefully as Derek moved away and off the bed, grabbing his discarded boxers and slipping them on, starting to pick up the rest of their clothes.

"If you're going to stay out of school today, you're still going to learn." The wolf explained, eyes flashing playfully when they looked up at the kid, watching him smile, teeth pulling his lip between them before letting it go.

"You're gonna let me see your shift all the way?" He asked, although he already knew the answer.

"Well, I won't be as distracted with wanting to fuck you completely senseless, so it's the perfect time." The older teen said, listening to the spike in the other's heartbeat, and glanced to see the blush covering his cheeks.

* * *

><p>"Okay, so... Why are we outside for this?" Stiles asked, pulling the leather jacket closer to his face, skin still a bit damp from their shower, wearing sweatpants and a long sleeved shirt, along with old boots that all belonged to Derek.<p>

"Cause you need the vitamin D." He smiled, placing a kiss to his lover's cheek, "Now sit down, you wanna be up close again, right?"

"Of course I do." The kid said, sitting Indian style on the grassy area of the clearing next to the Hale house, smiling as the wolf sat down next to him, only basketball shorts and his pullover hoodie on, hair still wet and pushed back, but not looking cold at all.

"Okay... Ready?" Derek asked, chuckling at Stiles' eager nod. He kissed him gently on the lips, then sat back and closed his eyes, concentrating on shifting slowly again, clenching his hands into fists, only opening them when his claws pushed their way out. He managed the small pain, and was able to open his eyes, seeing Stiles watching him intently. He sighed, letting his lips part to make way for the fangs, soft growl emitting from him, hunching over and setting his hands on the ground as his whole body changed from human to canine.

The younger teen watched in awe, "Just do it, it's okay. You don't have to show off."

And just like that, Derek stopped waiting up, and changed, whining as he tried to get his clothes off his canine body. He was helped, and he looked up at Stiles, seeing him set the clothes in his lap, smiling widely.

"Well, don't you look adorable?" He chuckled, rubbing the other's head, daring to scratch behind his ear, watching his tail wag.

Derek nuzzled up against his hand, then got into his lap. Laying against him, he heard his heartbeat loudly, also the laugh that racked through him. They stayed like that for a while, the teen rubbing his fur, the wolf just liking being held, too bad he didn't know how to keep his canine form for too long. He moved away, grabbing his clothes with his teeth, holding them up for Stiles to help him put them back on.

"Changing back?" Stiles asked, complying, feeling funny putting clothes on a large dog. Derek nodded, and sat back to shift back.

"I can't keep it for too long yet." He said when he was fully human again, laying back on the grass and closing his eyes, taking a deep breath. He felt a body crawl on top of his, and he smiled before brielfy feeling lips on his.

"That's okay. It was amazing to see." Stiles told him, scooting down and laying his head on his chest, hearing his heart beat fast. Arms circled around him.

"Thank you... How are you feeling?" Derek asked, rubbing his lover's back slowly, feeling the heat of his skin even under the leather, sensitive feeling with him again. He could feel the kid's heart beating against his stomach.

"I feel great. A little tired, but great." The younger teen told him truthfully, kissing his chest.

"Okay, good," The wolf leaned down, placing a kiss to the other's buzz cut, smiling when Stiles cuddled into him, "Are you hungry or anything."

"Now that you mention it..." He started, looking up at his lover with a grin.

Derek chuckled, "I'll get shoes on and we'll get something to eat."

"Can we take the Camaro?"

"Of course we can."

* * *

><p>"You like cheeseburgers?" The kid asked as his lover took a bite of the burger. He hadn't seen Derek ever eat before. It was a new Derek, that he really, really liked.<p>

"Mhmm." He mumbled around the food, giving a half smile while he chewed.

"Hm, I thought you ate like, baby dear and stuff." Stiles told him truthfully, taking a bite of his own burger.

"My uncle took down a deer once, after it charged at him." The wolf said after he'd swallowed the food, remembering like it was yesterday.

"...Can I meet him sometime, Derek? Your uncle, I mean." The younger teen asked softly, feeling nervous when the other went silent.

"Yeah." Derek said after a few moments, nodding slightly, "Today."

"T-Today?"

"We'll go to the hospital. You can meet him."

Stiles reached across the table and grabbed the older teen's hand, squeezing it. The wolf looked up at him and smiled, "Just know, you might not get a reaction."

"Doesn't matter."

They finished eating, then got back in the Camaro and made their way to the hospital. Derek took the kid's hand as they walked in, making their way up to Peter Hale's room. The wolf waved at the nurses as they walked in, then made their way down the hall.

"The redhead's name is Jennifer, she's been taking care of my uncle." He informed quietly before stopping at his uncle's room, seeing him in the wheelchair yet again staring out the window.

"It's okay, come on." Stiles said, squeezing his hand. Derek led him in, sitting him on the bed before slowly turning around the wheelchair and pushing it up to Stiles, settling in next to the other teen after.

"Uncle Peter... This is Stiles. He wanted to meet you, so I brought him by." The young wolf told his uncle, trying to bypass the almost lifeless stare the man seemed to have, the one he'd seen whenever he'd come to visit over the years.

"Hi." The smaller teen smiled anyway, glancing at Derek before reaching both his hands out and taking one of Peter's, fitting his in a handshake and gently doing so. He thought it would be nice and formal to shake the man's hand, and he could tell Derek was sad because he knew nothing would happen. He started to pull away, then felt something that made him chuckle.

"What?" The older teen asked, wondering why the other teen would be laughing at a time like this.

"He nudged me, Derek." Stiles was smiling ear to ear, knowing about the older wolf's history and the fire, and how he'd come to be just about paralyzed for all these years.

"He what?" Derek sat up, looking into his uncle's eyes, seeing them almost spark with an electric green color, dull and almost transparent to his human eyes. Derek went speechless.

"He nudged me, like a handshake almost. Derek. Derek?" He looked back to the younger wolf, who went pale. He set a hand on his shoulder.

"A-After almost seven years, I can see the wolf in him." The taller teen whispered, trying to figure out what was happening. He'd come here alone for years and the only time he brings someone, he gets a response, "How is that possible?"

"Wait, wait, wait... Didn't you write in one of those books that wolves are stronger in packs? M-Maybe it's like I'm part of your pack... And if it's like that, so is Scott, and Lydia. Allison... Jackson. Hell, even Danny."

"Stiles, can you-?"

"I got it." He gently let go of Peter's hand and hurried out to the hallway, seeing Derek grab his uncle's hand and squeeze, looking like a kid while fireworks go off. He grabbed his phone out of his pocket, dialing, "Scott, I think I figured something out. Get to the hospital where Derek's uncle is, bring Allison."

He made more calls, Lydia saying that she'd be over as soon as she could, and that she'd being Jackson and Danny. He smiled and slipped his phone back into his pocket, walking back in the room to an emotional-looking Derek. He smiled and nodded, rubbing his back soothingly.

"Take his hand, Stiles." The teenage wolf requested with a smile, which Stiles did, and they both saw Peter's eyes flicker emerald.


End file.
